


Those Who Favor Fire

by lezlies



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezlies/pseuds/lezlies
Summary: There is simply nothing more fun than a psychotic Vulcan.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 13
Kudos: 36





	Those Who Favor Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in Out of Bounds, Too (1982).
> 
> This story was written almost 40 years ago. As I skimmed through it looking for scanning hiccups I wondered what I was thinking when I wrote it because I cringed more than once at the dialogue and the pacing. I removed dozens of unnecessary commas that can't be blamed on the scanner. But other than removing some adjectives, the story is as it was published in OOB, Too.

> Some say the world will end in fire,  
>  Some say in ice.  
>  From what I've tasted of desire  
>  I hold with those who favor fire.  
>  (Robert Frost

It was beginning.

Spock sat before the firepot in his quarters, slowly constructing his features, his demeanor. It had never been so difficult to conceal his anticipation, but nothing had ever mattered so much to him before. The whole atmosphere of his quarters seemed to crackle with excitement. The months of careful groundwork he had laid must not be ruined by any precipitous action on his part. A fresh surge of excitement rushed through him, and to squelch it, he reviewed the events of the past fourteen months, trying to keep this impending confrontation with Kirk in perspective. After all, he had spent so much time and effort preparing for it.

T'Pring. How ironic it was that he should now be grateful to her. "Stonn wanted me, and I wanted Stonn." Direct, simple, and cruel, the memory of her words had taunted him. All that selfishness concealed in logic. Even T'Pau could not fault her flawless reasoning, despite the apparent tragedy of the situation. T'Pring had manipulated them, both him and Kirk. Forcing them into a macabre mating ritual with a victory prize neither really desired. After the numbness and shock of the events had faded, Spock had begun to reconsider his views of Vulcan in the light of T'Pring's actions. She had taken the selfless, cool and clean veneer off the sacred name of logic by using it as a tool to achieve her own desires.

All of his life, Spock had been taught that it was his Human half that pushed him to seek gratification, both sensual and emotional. That a true Vulcan didn't find such things necessary. Now, he realized that even the cream of Vulcan society, T'Pring, had personal desires and that she had no compunctions against using the ruthless logic bred in their race to get what she wanted. Logical manipulation. In its very simplicity, it made such perversely logical sense. The facts had been there all along, and he had been too blind and naive to see. Even the Vulcan diplomats were so successful because they were experts at steering emotionally charged situations to their advantage. Remaining cool, aloof and unbending got results.

His own father had been the worst. The picture of Vulcan perfection he held up to his son, daring him to try to reach it, had never existed. For years he had thought he had disappointed his father, but now he knew that Sarek had been angry that the tricks he used to keep him tied to Vulcan had failed.

The years he had wasted feeling inadequate and worthless made Spock even more bitter. But the years of denial were over now. Sarek himself could be proud of his son's careful calculations.

At first Spock had found the manipulating distasteful, but that soon wore off and he came to enjoy the game. Now he felt a sense of accomplishment when events moved the way he directed them. His tools were simple--an emotional slip at just the right time, a dash of warmth or sadness. A second of vulnerability, quickly hidden behind the Vulcan facade. But not too quickly. The acts required a finesse he rapidly developed. He was born to it, he felt. And ·he was so successful. Even beyond his hopes. What he· had expected to take years, he accomplished in months. Kirk was ready now; he was sure of it. And after the occurrence with Janice Lester less than a month ago, he would be especially susceptible. His defenses would be weak, and the gratitude Kirk felt toward him could well be the deciding factor in tonight's success.

Spock's equilibrium restored, he continued his vigil, still excited, but calmer, even more sure of himself. He would not fail. His plan was foolproof from start to finish. He knew James Kirk better than anyone in the galaxy.

But, as time passed, a small doubt began to nag at him. Perhaps he wasn't as proficient as he had thought. The bait had been set, where was his quarry?

Relief rushed through him as the door buzzed. The bait had been taken. He forced himself to wait for the second, more impatient buzz before he released the lock on the door.

James Kirk took a step inside, then stopped. A comm tape was clutched tightly in one hand. Spock made no move to greet or welcome him.

"May I come in?" Kirk inquired icily.

"As you wish," The Vulcan's tone was bare of all emotion or inflection.

Kirk moved across the room to stand in front of the desk. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, tossing the tape down.

"If that is the tape I left in your quarters, it is a transfer request. I should think the meaning is clear enough. I have completed all the required information and forwarded it to you for approval, as per regulations."

"Fuck regulations. Do you really think I'm going to let you leave this ship without telling me why?"

"Item three, section four of my transfer request states that--"

"Forget it, Spock," Kirk cut in angrily. "I can read you like a book. You might be able to fool everyone else with your poker face, but we've gone beyond that. I want the truth!"

Spock averted his gaze but remained silent. Kirk took a deep breath and tried to be patient. He knew from experience that the angrier he got, the more literal and cold the Vulcan got. "Okay, let's start again," Kirk said, calmer. "Why do you want a transfer? The real reason."

"My reasons are extremely personal, and I would prefer to keep them as such."

Kirk was thoughtful for a moment. "Spock, over a year ago, I made you a promise to keep something you told me in strictest confidence. It was a very personal, very painful admission for you, but you told me. You trusted me then. Why can't you trust me now?"

Tortured brown eyes rose to meet Kirk's gently inquisitive gaze. "I have admitted far too much to you. I am Vulcan, not Human. It is impossible to live in both worlds. I should never have crossed the line. It would have been better to remain as I was."

Kirk sat down opposite him, concerned by the strained note in his voice. But at least he was talking. "Spock, let me help you." They were back in the familiar roles again; Kirk coming to the emotional rescue. Spock needing him. "Please tell me."

"Very well," Spock said reluctantly, "since you refuse to honor my wish for privacy. I have discovered something about. . .about myself. Something I want—no, need. The idea is foreign to me. I cannot accept it."

Totally baffled, Kirk leaned forward. "What is it, Spock? Why can't you tell me?"

"Because it is.... someone. Do you understand? I desire--" He bowed his head. "I am ashamed." 

The revelation startled Kirk. For some reason he had never expected Spock to declare he was in love. After Leila, he had thought his friend had closed himself off to those feelings.

"Listen, Spock," he said softly, "there's nothing wrong with that. No matter what you were taught on Vulcan, love is nothing to be ashamed of-even the desire for physical love. It's natural. I hoped you were beginning to be able to deal with your Human traits. Don't run away from the most important one."

"Do not patronize me" Spock snapped.

Guilt stabbed at Kirk. If Spock had left himself open enough to fall in love, it was mostly his fault. He was the one who had cracked that Vulcan shell. "I wasn't making light of your feelings, honestly. Love can be very painful at times. I just don't want you to run from involvement. It's a part of life. A particularly good part."

"It is not that simple," Spock said miserably. "The situation is hopeless."

"Why? Is she married? Does she have an attachment to someone else? Have you even told her how you feel? Maybe I can help--"

Kirk broke off as Spock practically jumped up from the desk. The Vulcan turned his back. "Leave my quarters."

Stunned at Spock's quick dismissal, Kirk stood and moved to stand close behind him. "Spock?”

"Please, Jim," Spock moaned, "leave me my dignity."

Gently, Kirk turned him back around, gripping his arms. "I can't let you leave -"

"Why do you make me tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Kirk demanded.

Spock closed his eyes tightly. "Jim, I must leave because... because it is you I desire."

Spock's words echoed in Kirk's ears. Disbelief, stunned amazement, and just plain shock froze him for a long moment. When he realized how close they were standing, he released his hold on the Vulcan's arms and stepped back, still unable to speak.

"I am sorry," Spock whispered.

The self-loathing in Spock's voice jerked Kirk out of his stupor. "No, Spock. There's nothing to be ashamed of. No need to be sorry. You just. . .surprised me, that's all."

"No, I disgusted you. I saw it in your eyes." Spock stared at him accusingly. "I was afraid it would be this way." He reached out his hand.

Instinctively, Kirk moved back from the touch. "Wait. . .I. . ." He cleared his throat. ''I'm not. . .I mean, I've never. . . This isn't something I expected." He knew he was making it worse with every word he spoke. Cursing himself for a coward, he retreated. "Listen, I need time to think about this. I'm sorry, but I can't just-- I'll talk to you later," he finally blurted lamely as he moved out the door.

Spock watched him go, not at all perturbed by Kirk's response or hasty exit. He had anticipated this initial reaction. In fact, it should work well in furthering his plan. 

Kirk passed his own quarters, automatically seeking the reassurance of McCoy. Bones was always the one with the answers, or at least someone who could help to understand the questions.

"Who the hell is it?" came the sleepy response to his buzz.

"Jim." Kirk stepped in as the door opened grudgingly. McCoy was fumbling with his robe, looking sleepy and irritable.

"Siddown," he growled. "Where's it hurt?"

"1. . .I just wanted to talk for a minute."

"Um. This better be good. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Sorry, I won't stay long."

''Okay, get on with it. Spit it out."

Kirk squirmed in his chair, wondering how to begin. He couldn’t very well blurt out what Spock had told him. Besides betraying a confidence, it would be downright embarrassing. It struck him that what he had really came here for, was in some crazy way to ask permission from McCoy. Or, for Bones to tell him that it would be better to let Spock transfer, and forget the whole thing.

"Jim," McCoy said impatiently, "if you just came in here to stare at me, I'd just as soon give you a hologram."

"It's about Spock," Kirk finally mumbled.

"That figures. Isn't it always? What now?"

"He's....got a problem. It concerns me, but. . .I don't know if I can help him with it."

"You've never had any trouble before. As a matter of fact, I'd say you've been a little too preoccupied with him lately. Especially since. . ." He paused. "Well, anyhow, it's getting so it's hard to pry you two apart long enough to have a friendly drinking bout."

"He needs me," Kirk said defensively.

The blue eyes sharpened. "Yeah, I reckon you're right there. I think you're the only one he does seem to need. Is that part of the problem?"

Kirk stood abruptly. "Maybe it's not a problem at all. Sorry to wake you, Bones."

The doors slid shut before the Doctor could say more. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling vaguely uneasy.

* * * * 

Kirk lay in his quarters, desperately trying to sort out the night's events. One fact kept hammering at him. He was responsible. He should have seen what was happening. If he had left Spock in peace instead of hounding him about emotions and his Human half, this might have been avoided. Obviously. The situation wouldn't have come up at all. He and Spock had been so close in the last year, now that he looked back on it, that he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was.

Kirk marked the beginning of their special closeness with Spock's admission to him about the nature of the pon farr. He had felt greatly honored by Spock's trust, and felt quite justified--and more than a little satisfied--at the way things had turned out. He couldn't help but be happy that his friend was free of that witch, T'Pring. And· Spock seemed just as relieved, although sad and a bit vulnerable. That evening, once they were far from Vulcan's orbit, Kirk had gone to him. ·· He had look so alone and insecure that Kirk could not bear it. Unable to permit the usual barriers to stand in the way, he had reached over and taken Spock's hand, offering comfort. Realizing his forwardness, he had withdrawn it immediately, afraid of offending, but Spock had amazed him by taking it back and accepting the comfort openly.

The emotional openness had been gradual in developing after that night. A flash here, a moment there. But Kirk had often felt the warmth in Spock's eyes, and had enjoyed it immensely. But he hadn't bargained for this.

Or had he?

Wasn't it logical? Who else had spent the last year worming himself into Spock's confidence, breaking down his defenses? Who else had Spock let get close enough to love? If he wasn't prepared to accept the consequences, he should have never let this happen. He hadn't wanted any emotional involvements. It was one of the reason's he had refused a female yeoman after Janice Rand. He never been attracted to males, so he hadn't considered them a problem.

But what about Spock? He couldn't deny he loved him. Whether he could desire him physically was another matter entirely. It required an adjustment in attitudes. It would have been so much easier if they could have simply gone on as they had been, helping each other on an emotional level without the complications of sex.

But he had to face it now. There was no backing up, no replays. He was responsible for Spock's present misery, just as surely as if he'd tried to seduce him openly. His reaction when Spock told him hadn't made matters any better. He'd been a real bastard. . .running out on him like that.

The decision seemed simple and unavoidable. He owed Spock his life a dozen times over. And after the Janice Lester. incident, he owed him his sanity as well. If he backed away from him now, he knew Spock would never let anyone get so close again. He would revert to his protective glacier and let his soul freeze, alone and unhappy forever. But perhaps if Kirk agreed to this now, helped him accept love and learn to express it, Spock would eventually be confident enough to function more independently, and find a more complete relationship.

Never one to delay once ·he reached a decision, Kirk headed for Spock's cabin, certain the Vulcan would still be awake, brooding over the supposed rejection. Without giving Spock the chance to refuse him admittance, he walked on in, overriding the code lock. The room was dark except for the dim red flicker. It took a moment for Kirk's eyes to adjust. Spock was sitting on the bed, dressed in a simple Vulcan robe.

"Spock," he called softly, hesitating at the divider screen.

"You returned," Spock said tonelessly. "You need not have bothered. You made yourself perfectly clear earlier." He continued to stare at the firepot, unblinking.

"I'm sorry I ran away. I was confused. I think I understand now."

"Do you?" The words were clipped, the tone sarcastic."

Yes. . .I. . .Spock, I came back to . . .be with you."

"I do not wish to be the recipient of your noble sacrifice."

"I'm not here out of pity," Kirk denied. "I came because I love you. Damn it, will you please look at me!" He waited stubbornly until Spock glanced at him, the coldest gaze he had ever felt. "Listen, you hard-headed Vulcan, didn't you hear what I said? I love you! I want you, too." He watched Spock's hard facade crumble at the words.

"But, don't you understand, Jim? I don't know what I want."

Spurred by Spock's helplessness, Kirk moved to sit on the bed. Gently, he cupped one hand under Spock's chin and turned the face toward him. Spock trembled at the touch. "It's all right. Trust me."

Very slowly, Kirk leaned over and touched his lips to Spock's. The kiss was gentle and undemanding. Placing his other arm around the Vulcan's shoulders, he drew him into a light embrace. His tentative gesture was met with a desperate one from Spock. In a convulsive movement, both strong arms circled Kirk, clinging tightly.

"Take it easy," Kirk soothed. "Just relax." He waited until Spock's grip slackened, then pulled tum down until they were lying flat on the bed. The trusting pleasure in the dark eyes drove away the last of Kirk's doubts. He began stroking Spock's back rhythmically until Spock began to hesitantly return the action.

After several moments of simply lying there, touching each other, Kirk sat up and removed his shirt and boots. Spock made no answering gesture, so Kirk eased the robe from the pliant body. Absurdly, Kirk's thought was a slight sense of shock that he wasn't wearing any pajamas or even underwear. Since it was a little late to be worrying about such things, Kirk removed the remainder of his own clothes, suddenly ill at ease.

"Jim?"

The fear in that one syllable shook Kirk from his own nervous reverie. Smiling reassuringly, he settled back beside Spock, taking him in his arms. Their kisses were less innocent this time, their hands more assured. Kirk concentrated on bringing Spock pleasure more than himself.

Very quickly he sensed Spock's nearness to climax. Unwilling at this point to try any more elaborate means of gratification, Kirk moved against the Vulcan's body, rubbing against his engorged sex until Spock whimpered in response and began thrusting in return.

Locked in this intense embrace, Kirk, for the first time, began to enjoy the sensations himself. He was caught up in the heat and rhythm of it. His awkwardness and uncertainty disappeared. He responded eagerly, sinking into the sensual maelstrom.

They climaxed within seconds of each other, both crying out their delight. Without releasing their hold, they lay there, breathing heavily, gasping against the other's skin.

When Kirk had recovered enough to lift his head, the expression of pure contentment on Spock's face gave him a tremendous surge of accomplishment. He had succeeded in making him happy when no one else had.

"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered softly.

Spock didn't answer. He burrowed his face against Kirk's shoulder, almost shyly. It wasn't everything Spock wanted, but it was a beginning.

* * * *

Jim awoke alone, and was momentarily confused by the strange quarters. Memory returned far too quickly, certainly before he was ready to face it. Glancing at the· chronometer, he noticed that it was long past the time he was usually on the bridge. He shot out of the bed angrily, almost missing the note that lay on his neatly folded clothes.

"Jim," it read, "you were sleeping so soundly, I could not bear to wake you. I will take care of your morning duties. Spock." 

"Damn him," Kirk said to himself, irritated. But he smiled at the good intention behind Spock's action.

A few moments later, he stepped out of the shower and wondered where Spock kept his razor. Then he spotted his own, along with several other of his toilet articles, laid out neatly along the sink. Touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture, Kirk wondered how Spock was doing, whether he was having the same second thoughts as he was. It made him a little uneasy thinking someone might have seen Spock bringing his gear from his quarters. It wasn't exactly a normal occurrence for the Captain to spend an entire night in his First Officer's cabin.

Naturally, the first person he met upon leaving Spock's quarters was McCoy.

"Last time I saw him, he was on the bridge," McCoy supplied helpfully, not giving Kirk's emergence from Spock's cabin a second thought.

"Thanks," Kirk replied, relieved at the Doctor's ready assumption.

"By the way," McCoy added, giving Kirk a measuring look, "what was all that about last night? You sure left in a hell of a hurry."

"Oh, uh. . .it was nothing important. I had some things on my mind. I didn't realize it was so late."

"Want to talk now?"

"No, I. . .pretty much worked it out by myself. Thanks anyway. I'd better get to the bridge. I'll see you later." He hurried to the turbolift before McCoy could question him further.

When Kirk stepped onto the bridge, Spock immediately vacated the command chair. "Ship's status?" Kirk asked, careful to avoid meeting the Vulcan's eyes.

"Normal, sir. Proceeding at warp three on heading forty-three mark seven, as per orders." Spock's voice gave no clue as to how he was reacting to what had happened between them.

Kirk signed the routine reports, which took all of ten minutes, then sat back, feeling more restless than ever. Th.e area of space they were traveling was so safe it was positively boring. It left him nothing to do except think. And he was very sure where his thoughts would lead.

He glanced over at Spock. _Well, he looks serene enough,_ Kirk thought irritably. It seemed a pity everything couldn't remain as simple as it seemed last night. Spock needed him, and he had responded to that need. It had been more an act of compassion than passion. So why was it bothering him when it didn't seem to be troubling Spock at all? Of course, with the Vulcan, appearances could be very deceiving.

"Lieutenant Uhura, you have the con. Mr. Spock, I need to speak with you." The. words were out before he had time to regret them. The bridge crew was looking at Spock sympathetically, obviously thinking he was going to be on the receiving end of one of Kirk's out-of-temper lectures. Kirk didn't care what they thought at this point. He had to talk this out with Spock so he could get back to his main concern in life--the Enterprise.

Once the turbolift doors closed behind them, Spock's mask fell away, clearly revealing an expression of questioning concern and affection. The change startled Kirk, and he choked back all his planned speeches about the previous night. It still wasn't the right time.

"What is it, Jim?" Spock asked quietly.

"You should have wakened me." The awkwardness of this conversation was unsettling. Here he was, the Captain, reprimanding his First Officer for neglecting to wake him after they had spent the night in bed together. Life was crazily out of kilter all of a sudden.

"I apologize, sir," Spock replied stiffly.

Kirk heard the hurt in the deep voice. He sighed. "No, Spock. I'm sorry. It's just that. . . Hell, I don't even know what I'm saying." He combed his fingers through his hair distractedly. "Would you mind taking over for me for the rest of the day? I've... I've got some paperwork I'd like to catch up on."

"Of course."

As the door was about to open onto Deck Five, Spock took the handle, keeping it frozen shut.

"Jim," he said softly, "Last night you asked if that was what I wanted. It was all that and more. I need you." His eyes probed Kirk's, seeking a response.

The words, said so simply and openly, shocked Kirk. In spite of everything, it was somehow more than he'd bargained for.

"We'll talk later," Kirk promised, manufacturing a smile. Spock released the lever, and Kirk strode out of the lift, almost afraid to look back.

Kirk spent the remainder of the shift on paperwork, for once managing to get caught up, but it didn't prevent him from thinking about the situation. He, quite rightly, saw that he had once again jumped into something with both feet, and he couldn't see how he was going to get out of it without causing even more damage.

Finally, late in the afternoon, he came to the conclusion that he was being a total idiot. No one had forced him to go to Spock. It had been his choice, and he wasn't even sure why he was regretting it now. After all, it had been rather enjoyable.

Was that the real problem? That he had slept with a man and enjoyed it?

He considered the thought carefully but rejected it. Although he'd never really wanted a man before, he had had plenty of offers. No, it was the involvement that worried him more. This could never be a quick affair. For the first time, emotional commitment had come before the physical attraction. Spock loved him, and he loved Spock. Simple. So what was the problem? Was he afraid of that responsibility? The question nagged at Kirk, forcing him to see some truths about himself that weren't too pleasant.

He finally made up his mind, and spoke into the desk console, "Mr. Spock, please report to my quarters at the end of the shift."

The Vulcan who walked in twenty minutes later, was not the one who had reached out so tentatively in the turbolift. Spock of Vulcan was back with all his iciest control. The fact that he was responsible didn't help Kirk at all. It only made him feel more guilty for hiding in his quarters all day, playing god with their relationship.

"Have a seat," Kirk invited casually. "I want to apologize for my unprofessional behavior today. I just want you to know that last night was very special to me, also." Kirk said all this in a rush, then he paused because he was receiving no reaction from Spock. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and smiled. "Do you understand? I'm saying that I enjoyed it."

"I am pleased I afforded you some amusement," Spock replied coldly. He stood and moved purposefully to the door.

Kirk jumped up. "Spock, don't go! I didn't mean it the way it sounded. What I want to say is that I do love you. And that I'm very glad it happened." Once said, the words seemed to free him. He believed it now; wanted to make it true. "Please stay." His voice was soft and throaty, indicating more than an invitation to remain and talk.

A small smile played at the corners of Spock's mouth before he turned to accept the offer. He had Kirk now. Not as totally as he wished, but that would follow soon enough. The first stage was complete.

* * * *

"Mind if I join you?" McCoy inquired, as he balanced his tray on one hand while pulling out a chair with the other.

"Sure," Kirk answered, "but I'm almost finished."

"I haven't seen much of you lately," McCoy noted off-handedly. "As a matter of fact, I haven't seen hardly anything of you or Spock for over a week now. What have you been up to? Not working late every night, are you?"

"I've been keeping pretty busy," Kirk evaded. "What about you?"

"Fair to middlin'." The blue eyes looked him over carefully. "You're lookin' pretty chipper these days, Jim. Looks like you’re losing that couple of extra pounds. Working out in the gym more?"

"Off and on, when I find the time." Kirk wondered briefly what McCoy would think of the main exercise he'd been getting lately.

McCoy took a bite of his food and looked around curiously. "Where's Spock?"

"How should I know?" Kirk snapped, suddenly defensive. He regretted it when he saw the blue eyes sharpen with interest.

"What's wrong, Jim? You have a fight with Spock?"

"No, why do you say that?" //Just the opposite. //

"Just that you two have been thick as thieves lately, and you hardly ever see one of you without the other one close by. Sometimes I wonder if it's really all that good for Spock to be so…"

"So, what?"

"Well. . .caught up in you. Might be better if he tried to relate to other people, too. It worries me a little--" McCoy broke off as he looked up to see Spock standing a few feet away behind Kirk. For a second he was puzzled by the expression on the long face as he stared at the two sitting together at the table. Anger? Possessiveness? Jealousy? McCoy wasn't sure what he read there, and it vanished before he could decide, leaving him to wonder if he'd imagined it.

Spock joined them, and they began their usual pattern of banter--Kirk laughing, McCoy joking, and Spock tolerating it with poker-faced patience. Just like old times--but with a difference. McCoy couldn't put his finger on it, but something had changed. And he couldn't forget what he thought he'd seen on the Vulcan's face. As he watched them leave together a short time later, he decided it was time to do some digging. Something was going on, and he wanted to know about it.

Kirk and Spock walked down the corridor together toward Kirk's quarters, but when they reached the door and Kirk lifted his hand to the door release, Spock forestalled him. The touch of Spock's fingers on his arm sent a shiver through Kirk.

"Wait, Jim. There is something I would like to show you."

"Lead on," Kirk replied cheerfully. He marveled at Spock's new warmth. The last week had been a tremendous experience for both of them. Spock had rapidly lost his early temerity and had become quite venturesome in bed. Kirk's cock twitched at the memory of the Vulcan's new-found expertise with his mouth. Spock either had very well-developed instincts or had taken lessons.

Spock led him to the Astronomy lab. Curious now, Kirk followed him into the main viewing room. It was totally deserted, which was rather unusual for one of the more popular rendezvous spots on the ship.

"Rank does have its privileges, Captain," Spock said, as if reading his thoughts. "I put a notice up that this room is being used for private research."

Kirk laughed. "Good thinking, Spock. It won't hurt a few lovers to find a new place for tonight at least." He watched as Spock secured the door, dimmed the lights, and activated the screen.

The view was beautiful, romantically entrancing as always, but nothing out of the ordinary. "Okay, what's the big surprise?"

"There is something I wish you to see," Spock explained simply. He wrapped his arms around Kirk from behind, savoring the feel of the perfect body leaning back against his.

I think I've already seen it," Kirk said mischievously, rubbing his hips back against the Vulcan's groin. "And it certainly is worth admiring."

Spock slid his hand under Kirk's shirt to caress the smooth chest. "Now, pay attention to the screen," Spock instructed sternly. Kirk squirmed against him harder when Spock's roving hand found a nipple to tease.

"It's hard to pay attention to anything when you're--" Kirk broke off as the view screen seemed to explode in burst of light, the intensity of the colors making him flinch. He was speechless for a moment, stunned by the beauty of what he was seeing.

Spock didn't spare the screen a glance. Instead, he watched Kirk, absorbing and relishing the wondrous expression on the face, more beautiful to him than a thousand novas or a million rainbows. The beauty in his arms outshone them all.

When the brilliant display faded, he answered Kirk's unspoken question. "A collision between a meteor and a minor planetoid. The atmosphere of the planetoid was extremely--" His explanation was interrupted.

Kirk turned around in Spock's arms and pulled him down into a fierce kiss. "It was beautiful. Thank you. Is that what you've spent all day doing? Plotting the course of those two and figuring the time they would strike each other?"

"It was rather difficult arranging the collision," Spock said seriously.

"I almost believe you did," Kirk laughed. He sobered when he noticed the puzzled look on the Vulcan's face.

"I would do anything for you, Jim. Anything."

For a second Kirk felt a strange uneasiness, a fluttering in his stomach he sometimes had before a catastrophe or extreme danger. But he shook it off, "Hey, let's get out of here," he said lightly. "I think I'm ready for another show. But I'd rather it be in my quarters."

"My quarters," Spock insisted. "My plans for the night are just beginning." 

Kirk grinned. "That sounds ominous, but intriguing. What are we waiting for?"

When Kirk walked through the door of Spock's cabin, he was stunned by the change that had taken place. It was almost a magical transformation. The familiar somber elegance was gone. The walls were now awash with flickering colors. The source of the display was four metal dishes in the corners of the room. They held some type of flaming coals but produced neither heat nor the usual hues of firelight. Blues, golds, purples and reds danced and reflected off the shining silver metal, tossing the brilliance over the room. The colors swirled and merged and burst apart again to flicker enchantment on the ceiling and walls.

There was a curious fragrance in the air that Kirk found both appealing and relaxing. Kirk smiled at Spock. "So, this is where you disappeared to during dinner."

"Does it please you?"

"Everything you do pleases me. You're spoiling me." Kirk grinned and moved closer to Spock.

"You are mine to spoil," Spock said softly, then added, "You seduced me, now I wish to reciprocate." He trailed one finger down the smooth cheek, before turning to the desk and picking up the small decanter he had placed there earlier. He poured two measures of pale red liquid into glasses and handed one to Kirk.

"Is this Vulcan?" Kirk asked as he took it. 

"No. I found it a few months ago on Rigel 6."

"You hardly need to get me drunk," Kirk teased, "but if you insist." He sipped it cautiously. It was bitter and burned his tongue slightly. Not wanting to hurt Spock's feelings, he drained the rest of it quickly. In a few seconds, his stomach warmed pleasantly, and the warmth slowly spread into his thighs and groin. He felt lightly euphoric.

Spock had also downed his glass with one swallow and stood watching Kirk. He took the glass from the Human's hand and set them both down.

"Undress."

Kirk's head snapped up at what was unquestionably a command. Spock's voice held a low, growly quality that was oddly compelling. After a slight hesitation, he shrugged and began peeling off his shirt. He rather liked the mysterious air of this game. He had no qualms about playing along, since Spock hadn't disappointed him yet. Making love with Spock was excitingly different from any other sex Kirk had experienced. It was not

only the male to male aspect of it, although that held more attraction than Kirk had ever thought it could. But it was even more than that. Spock had no preconceived expectations or inhibitions, and that somehow freed Kirk from any that lingered with him--or most of them. He could moan or writhe when he felt like it, express his pleasure openly, without shattering anyone's image of the cool, confident, controlled starship captain. And if Spock had been able to overcome his Vulcan restraint so easily and completely, Kirk felt he could certainly do as much.

Still, for all his good intentions, Kirk felt a little foolish standing there totally naked while Spock was fully dressed and showing no sign of remedying the situation. He was staring at Kirk, devouring him with his eyes, and Kirk felt himself blushing.

Kirk started to ask if he was going to get undressed, but he changed his mind. Somehow it seemed that words would no longer fit in this carefully constructed atmosphere. The seductive, sultry feeling that permeated the room had intensified. He remained silently compliant as Spock brought a small, ornate pedestal to the center of the room. The platform was only a few inches high and less than two feet in diameter. A firm hand grasped Kirk's arm, urging him to step up. Puzzled now, Kirk started to turn around to face Spock, but was restrained by the hands resting on his shoulders, massaging him sensually.

"Relax," Spock whispered, his voice deep. The regular cabin lights dimmed, leaving the pulsing flicker created by the metal plates of cool fire. "Close your eyes, clear your mind of all thoughts," the Vulcan ordered.

Absurdly, Kirk found himself concentrating, letting the tension wash out of him.

The silence was broken only by the erotic rumble of Spock's voice.

"Concentrate on nothingness, a void, total blackness. You are no longer James Kirk. There is no longer an Enterprise. Only the emptiness is real. Intangible, without substance, but your only reality. You have no reality. No form, no reason for being."

Kirk listened to the litany, feeling himself sway as he fell into the void Spock was describing. For a second, he tried to protest, but the hands on his shoulders moved up to his brow, pressing lightly, stroking his face until he was acquiescent. Hypnosis? Drugs? Mind meld? Or just power of suggestion. He didn't know or care. He drifted contentedly into the darkness, losing himself.

The world ended, and the silence reverberated inside his head. Suddenly, he felt very alone, and wondered how long he had been that way. It was very sad to be alone, very empty. Peaceful but lonely. He didn't like it anymore.

Spock's voice came to him, as from a great distance.

"You are clay, an uncut stone, a blank canvas. You are waiting for someone to mold you, sculpt you, paint you. To be created anew. Believe that." Spock's voice was intense with the determination to make the impressions on Kirk. He moved in front of the Human, pleased to note the closed eyes, the rapt expression. "I am your artist," he continued. "I will create you, give you purpose. You will no longer be alone."

Kirk found he couldn't even nod his agreement. He was all that Spock said, and he waited patiently to be retrieved from this darkness.

Spock knelt in front of the frozen man. He placed his hands on the top of Kirk's feet, feeling every toe, rubbing his fingers over each nail as if really creating them for the first time. With careful precision, he worked his way up the legs, molding muscles and bones from air.

The only reality Kirk knew was the touch of Spock's hands on his body. His mind was awash with the erotic fantasy that was being woven for him. The emotions were so intense, he felt like crying. But he couldn't cry yet; Spock had not given him eyes.

Moving behind Kirk once more, Spock slip up the muscular legs, taking time to delineate all the muscles and joints, proceeding, almost reverently, to the rounded buttocks. He cupped them in his hands, savoring the silken texture of the skin. He eased them apart gently and trailed a finger between them, pleased that Kirk didn't flinch away from this particular touch as he usually did. Incredibly aroused, Spock forced himself to keep the pace slow, to hold on to the dream-like state he had produced in Jim.

He moved to the front again and was greeted by the sight of Kirk's penis arching in the first stage of arousal. Avoiding the area for now, Spock kneaded and caressed the hard stomach, and reached around to smooth hands over the broad back and shoulder blades. Moving over the shoulders, he traced the collar bone around and spent leisurely minutes on the smooth, powerful chest, painstakingly teasing the nipples erect.

Kirk was breathing very deeply now, but he had not uttered a word or consciously moved. To prolong the sensations, Spock shaped the arms next, giving each finger the same attention the toes had received, stroking the palms, the wrists, the forearms, feeling the slow pulse in the bend of the arms.

Kirk was totally lost in the sensations. The strong hands were on his throat, then his face. His nose was traced into existence, his mouth sculpted, then his eyes hollowed gently. He shivered as his eyelashes were feather-brushed by the tip of Spock's finger, but he kept them closed. He was still an inanimate object. His ears were fondled, his hair fluffed and combed through with tender hands.

There was a pause, then Spock returned to the eagerly waiting genitals. He stroked the now erect cock, cupped the testicles, and stepped back, finished.

"If I am Pygmalion," Spock said softly, "seeking perfection, I have found it in you.

All that remains is for you to awaken to life and give yourself to me freely."

Kirk's eyes opened, focusing slowly on Spock's face. He almost felt as if he had been awakened to life, or that time had been strangely suspended. And, perhaps, in some ways he had been created anew from that first night they had shared their bodies. He was a different man now, with new values and new ideas. Looking into Spock's eyes, he saw eager anticipation for his answer.

"I give you everything," Kirk said, voice choked with emotion.

Wild elation rushed through the Vulcan. Imperiously, he swept Kirk up into his arms, holding him securely against his chest. He claimed the tempting mouth with a fierce kiss that deepened as he felt Kirk's arms encircle his neck.

Kirk responded eagerly to the kiss. It didn't even occur to him to resent Spock's abrupt and forceful manner. He had never been held like this, never been the weaker partner. Finally, unable to breathe, he broke the kiss.

The intensity of Spock's expression was unnerving. “I want to possess my creation."

There was no mistaking Spock's meaning. Kirk tensed at the idea. At first, he thought his reaction was one of fear, but he couldn't deny the pulsing of his erection. He wanted this, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He couldn't think clearly. The sensations coursing through him were too immediate. Spock's power too close; compelling, demanding. His decision was not a conscious one; he just left it to Spock. Relaxing totally in the strong arms, he buried his face against the Vulcan's shoulder and waited.

Spock carried his unresistant lover into the bedroom. He could sense Kirk's apprehension, but he knew the curiosity and desire were stronger. Spock had counted on just that from the beginning.

Kirk watched the Vulcan undress, his movements slow and deliberate. There was no trace of the awkwardness and. uncertainty that had been present only a week or two before. The thought bothered Kirk for a second. He wasn't the teacher anymore, with Spock the grateful pupil. Their roles had been shattered by the drama Spock had woven. Or had it happened even earlier? Kirk suddenly felt strangely vulnerable.

Spock was naked now, standing over the bed. Kirk felt the hot eyes searing his body, as if they were seeing through him, reading his every thought. Unable to hold that gaze, Kirk made an inspection of his own. Spock's erection was straining out from his body, and Kirk tried to reconcile its size with the pleasure that had shot through him when Spock had pressed his finger against his rectum. The idea of it entering him, of being buried deep within him, both repelled and intrigued him. He waited, but Spock remained standing, unmoving. Finally, Kirk realized Spock was waiting for some sign, for tangible permission to proceed. He swallowed nervously and turned slowly onto is stomach.

Spock pushed his legs apart and knelt between them on the bed. He reached to the nightstand for the lubricant he had had ready for weeks, waiting for this moment. He pulled Kirk to his knees.

Jim clutched the sheet near his head, trying to control his rapid breathing. The opening hands startled him, and the lack of movement made him uncomfortable and suddenly ashamed of what he was doing. But all thoughts of right or wrong were promptly forgotten when the hot mouth began to touch him. He moaned with pleasure as Spock's tongue teased him, swirling around his anus. He squirmed back, seeking more of the exquisite sensations. Soon, a finger replaced the tongue, probing inside him. He felt the coolness of the lubricant as it was being applied, then a second finger joining the first in forcing him to relax and accept this intrusion in preparation for the larger one.

"Spock, please. . .now," Kirk said hoarsely. He had to know, had to feel it in him. But the fingers only burrowed deeper, bringing more waves of pleasure.

"You want me?" Spock demanded.

"Yes," Kirk gasped, breathless and too excited to pretend. "Yes."

Unable to resist any longer, Spock slowly withdrew his fingers. He spread the lubricant on himself and positioned his erection, teasing Kirk with it before pushing against the opening.

The pain startled Kirk. He had expected it to be difficult and painful, but this was far worse than he had imagined. He tried to relax, but his muscles were rebelling instinctively.

The sound of Kirk's painful gasp halted the Vulcan. He waited several moments, then pushed a little harder, until stopped by spasming muscles. Slowly, he achieved complete penetration. He reached around and grasped Kirk's penis, coaxing back the arousal that had been stolen by the pain. As Kirk became aware of the hand stirring his excitement again, he arched toward it, feeling the cock slip slightly from him. Unexpected pleasure resulted from the friction, and he pushed back against Spock’s body again.

Taking the initiative once more, Spock began thrusting, harder this time, establishing a slow pattern of long, smooth strokes. Kirk was being propelled between the double pleasure of Spock's hand and the now wonderful impalement, and he quickly climaxed in an explosive burst. Spock was almost carried with him, the trembling body stimulating his cock unbearably. He waited until Kirk was still, then began thrusting again, this time with a more definite pace. His thoughts were on fire, his body seemed unquenchable. He had won--Kirk was his.

Kirk was still lost in the. sensations. He felt every inch of the cock as it slid through him. Amazingly, his own cock hardened again, almost immediately--this time without the direct stimulation of Spock's hand.

The fever rushed on and on, until reality spiraled away once again--every reality except the two of them, joined forever in this passion-dance. As the power of it increased, Kirk was forced to brace his hands against the headboard. The fire had captured them both, and their cries mingled as Kirk shoved back to meet each thrust.

He heard an almost unrecognizable cry as his hips were grabbed and he felt Spock erupt inside' him. Kirk felt as if every sensation had been dragged from him as he arched in a final spasm. They collapsed in exhaustion on the bed.

Kirk was dazed, unable to think about tomorrow or anything else. He subsided into Spock's arms, totally drained of energy.

Spock was stunned, unable to move from Kirk's body. It was even more than he'd expected. It seemed as if his whole life had merely been a prelude to this incredible night. He had accomplished what no other had. He had taken James Kirk and bent him to his will. The satisfaction was supremely sweet. Already he wanted more and was determined to have it--all of it, everything. The burning inside him was appeased but still hungry for more.

The next morning, Spock awoke . first, purposefully wanting time to think before he had to deal with Kirk. What happened last night would have repercussions, and he had to be fully prepared to meet them and turn the situation to his advantage. This would be, perhaps, the most difficult hurdle, for Kirk was not submissive by nature.

They were still curled together, and Spock began to lightly skim his hand over Kirk's nude body in a possessive exploration that he considered his personal perogative. A self satisfied smile appeared and curled briefly on his features. Kirk was his. He had pursued and won him. It almost seemed a pity that Kirk would never know all the careful planning and cunning he had used to achieve his ends.

Spock watched the peaceful face framed by the tousled hair. So beautiful, so perfect. Sex with Kirk was incredibly good, better than any he had experienced before. He almost chuckled at the thought that Kirk, and probably most of the crew, believed he was sexually naive. At one time, he had been. Indeed, ridiculously so. But after the episode with T'Pring, he had seen the folly of that. It was illogical to ignore his needs. True, he fulfilled them quietly, seeing no reason to flaunt his personal affairs. And it had meshed well with his ultimate goal, for he had not wanted to come to Kirk as a complete novice. It served his purpose better for Kirk to just believe him so.

"Jim," he said softly, "it is time to wake."

Kirk slowly became aware of his surroundings. The arm that encircled him was comforting and secure. Spock's other hand was fondling him and he felt himself responding. It wasn't until he felt Spock's cock nudging his ass that he remembered. Whatever responses he was feeling at the stimulation abruptly faded. He recalled with horrendous clarity his passive submission the night before. He'd let himself be screwed…and loved it.

Jerking out of Spock's embrace, he rolled out of bed. "Jim, what is wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped, searching for his clothes.

"But there is. You are upset."

''It's nothing, I tell you. Forget it."

"Please, Jim," Spock coaxed, "tell me what's bothering you."

"Listen, Spock," Kirk burst out angrily, "just because you fucked me last night, it doesn't give you the right to--" He broke off, realizing how ridiculous he was sounding. Spock knew he was upset and just wanted to know why. But he had to get something straight right now. It was important Spock understand. "What happened...it doesn't mean anything. Is that clear? I'm not--" He shut up again, knowing he wasn't making sense. Scooping up his clothes, he fled into the bathroom.

Kirk let the water of the shower wash over him. He scrubbed the dried semen from his thighs and buttocks, feeling ashamed and confused. Questions pounded in his head. How could he have let it happen? Why? Everything else he could accept--but allowing himself to be dominated? No. It wasn't right--it wasn't him. If he had ever considered having that type of sex with Spock, he had always envisioned it happening the other way. He should never have let it get this serious, this fast. What began as a method of helping Spock, had changed into far more than he had intended. Everything was changing, and it was all Spock's fault. It had hurt. He could still feel the soreness. How could he like something that painful? He told himself he hadn't, not really. It had all been part of the strange effect Spock had managed to create last night.

After dressing, he strode through Spock's quarters, without even glancing at the Vulcan. He went directly to the bridge, without stopping for breakfast, hoping to immerse himself in work.

As the first shift crew took their places, they became uncomfortably aware of their Captain's foul mood. They weren't surprised by the practice drills, but it was unusual for Spock to be included in Kirk's brusqueness. A collective sigh of relief was heard when Kirk finally left for engineering, apparently determined to spread his good cheer throughout the ship. When he left there an hour later, he had chewed out two ensigns, one crewman, and Mr. Scott. Unfortunately, he didn't feel any better, only foolish and slightly embarrassed by his bad temper. After a solitary lunch, he returned to his quarters.

He was far from pleased to find he had a visitor. "What the hell are you doing here?"

McCoy didn't bother moving from his chair. "Waiting for you. I thought you might want to yell at me, too. You must've missed Sickbay on your rampage."

"By all means, make yourself comfortable," Kirk said sarcastically.

"Thanks, I believe I will." He propped his feet up and folded his hands over his stomach.

Kirk shrugged and moved to sit at the desk. He picked up a fuel report and studied it blindly, hoping McCoy would get bored and go away, as doubtful as the possibility was.

"Want to tell me what's bothering you?" McCoy asked offhandedly.

Kirk looked up sharply. "You know, I'm getting pretty damn tired of being asked that.

Just because things were getting a little lax around here and I decided to shape them up."

"Sounds to me like you were trying to remind everyone you were the captain...or Captain Bligh, from what I've been hearing." McCoy paused, then hit a little harder. "You trying to compensate for something?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Doctor?" Kirk snarled. "Why don't you take your insubordination back to Sickbay and practice psychology on the lab animals?"

McCoy had expected a reaction, but not such a vehement one. Still, he took the outburst calmly. "No need to get so testy, Jim-boy. I was just askin'."

Kirk took a deep breath, and smiled ruefully. "Sorry, Bones. This just hasn't been a good day. I really don't feel much like talking right now."

For once, McCoy didn't press. He dropped his feet onto the floor and stood. "When you do feel like talkin', you know where to find a willing ear. Just don't go fretting over something that's not really important. I know how you can exaggerate things. Matters usually sort themselves out if you don't make such a fuss over them."

When the Doctor had left, Kirk rested his head in his hands, ·wondering how life had suddenly become so complicated. He had to get control of himself. He'd made a fool of himself today, and he knew it. But he had never let personal problems interfere with his command before, and he couldn't let it start now.

Maybe McCoy had a point. Was he making too much out of this? Giving it an importance it didn't deserve? The question answered itself quickly when he recalled his behavior the previous night. No, he wasn't the submissive type, and was uncomfortable with the role. So why did he play it? That question was more difficult.

In the past Kirk had carefully avoided long-term committments, and had become expert at extricating himself one way or another when he couldn't. Janice Lester was an excellent example. He winced at the memory, still too fresh, from the weeks before. He had hurt her far more than he realized. Was that what he was trying to do with Spock? Giving himself an excuse to back out of the relationship?

A weight was lifted off his mind at the simple justification. Now that he realized what he had been unconsciously doing, he could deal with it. A subconscious fear of committment could be overcome. The habit wasn't too strong to break. He still wanted Spock, and that was what mattered. In the beginning, he had never really considered letting the relationship continue indefinitely, but now he could find no reason for it not to. He enjoyed it. It was benificia1 to them both. All he had to do was convince Spock to put the relationship back on their previous footing. Just because he didn't want to be dominated, didn't mean he didn't want to be loved. He didn't especially want to dominate Spock either. Their lovemaking had been quite satisfactory before, and returning to that would solve the problem.

Kirk found Spock a short time later, in the Science lab. It was quiet and Spock was alone in his off ice.

"Yes, sir?" Spock inquired correctly when Kirk entered. His expression was unreadable and there was no warmth in his eyes.

"We need to talk."

"I hardly think this is the proper place or time, Captain. I will be finished with my work in approximately one hour."

His manner irritated Kirk. "Listen, Mister, I'm still--"

Spock cut him off. "You are my military commander, and I will follow military orders. However, you wish to discuss a personal matter. You are not my commanding officer in what we share."

Kirk flushed. "I... You are right, of course. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted your work." He hesitated. "Could you meet me in my quarters when you're finished here?"

''I will be in my quarters in one hour."

Obviously, Spock wasn't in a conciliatory mood. "Okay," Kirk said lamely, "we'll talk then."

With an hour to kill, Kirk decided to go to the gym for a run. He was tense and thought it would relax him. He figured Spock had every right to be pissed for the way he had acted toward him this morning, and he was beginning to wonder if his suggestions on their relationship would be greeted quite as warmly as he first thought.

As always, Kirk ran hard and fast. He was able to blank his mind as the treadmill picked up speed, and by the time he slowed his pace, he was wet with sweat and breathing hard. The run had felt so good, he had lost track of time. He was already a little late for their meeting when he hurried out of the gym.

Afraid Spock would think he was playing games by making him wait, Kirk didn't stop to change his running clothes. He threw a towel around his neck and went directly to Spock's quarters. His buzz for admittance was answered immediately.

Spock was seated behind his desk, eyes still cold. Kirk sat down in the chair opposite him, and slid down in the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. He was still a little breathless from the run.

"What did you wish to speak to me about?" Spock prompted, trying to keep his eyes on Kirk's face. The shorts were just that, and pushed even higher by Kirk's posture. The sight of the smoothly muscled legs, the slim hips, the quite evident bulge in the crotch accentuated by the tight shorts, and the sweat-dampened shirt that clung to Kirk's chest and arms were incredible distractions.

In spite of Kirk's resolve to be appeasing, he was again nettled by the Vulcan's tone of voice. "You know damn well what I want to talk about. You, me...us. What happened last night. We have to get some things straight right now."

''I take it, _you_ have made a decision," Spock said caustically.

Kirk didn't miss the emphasis. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"What did you mean this morning?" Spock asked suddenly, throwing Kirk off balance. Kirk flushed slightly. "I was just...upset ...about what happened."

"You make it sound like some dark, terrible event. We made love."

"Well...yes, but..." Kirk squirmed uncomfortably. "It's not something I want to happen again. I know it may be hard for you to understand this, but...well, there are certain attitudes held about what... Okay, about men who submit to others. It's considered a sign of weakness, a need to be dominated. I know it doesn't make much sense when I say it out loud ..." He trailed off, realizing his explanation was extremely lame.

"You have never permitted social prejudices to influence you before," Spock retorted calmly. He stood and walked around the desk and perched against it beside Kirk's chair, establishing himself in a purposefully dominant position above the Human. "Let us be honest. These are your attitudes."

Kirk looked up at Spock. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and stood, unconsciously equalizing their positions. "That's not true. I was just trying to explain--"

"Of course it is true," Spock broke in impatiently. "You are ashamed."

Kirk began to pace, feeling trapped. "Okay, maybe you're right. I didn't like it, that's the main point."

"Nonsense."

Kirk watched warily as Spock moved closer to him. He could feel the sexual currents building.

"Why can't you admit that you enjoyed it, Jim?"

"I just told you that I didn't," Kirk insisted, unable to meet the intense gaze. "It's just not my style."

"Obviously, you have convinced yourself of this. You seem to have forgotten that you climaxed twice." Kirk's head shot up, and Spock continued before he could regain his composure. "You are unable to admit to yourself that the indomitable Captain Kirk could actually enjoy--how did you so delicately phrase it this morning-- getting fucked."

Rage shot through Kirk. "You smug bastard!"

"I satisfied you quite well," Spock returned with a sneer.

At that, Kirk completely lost his temper. He took a swing at Spock, almost instinctively. Spock was prepared for it, and caught the arm effortlessly, twisting it behind the Human's back. Kirk's attempts to squirm free just caused the Vulcan to press him tighter against his body to keep him subdued.

"This is something else you resent, isn't it?" Spock demanded. "You never quite want to accept that I am stronger than you."

"Damn you, let me go!" Kirk snarled. Spock was far too accurate with his verbal jabs. "For years you have asked me to be honest, to confront my emotions. Now I claim the same of you."

"I order you--" Kirk began furiously, but Spock cut him off once more.

"I said you do not order me in this. That is the real problem here. Everything was fine between us while you were in control. You decided what we did and when and where. What I did to you last night upset that balance. You were not commanding then; ! was. You listened, you obeyed, and you enjoyed it. That is what you cannot accept. You knew what I wanted when I carried you into the bedroom. I gave you every chance to stop it. I didn't want you to be able to deny your complicity in the light of day. You try to deny it now, but you know the truth."

"Shut up!" Kirk struggled with renewed force to break free of the iron grip. He couldn't shut out the memories that Spock was recreating, knowing they were true and hating it.

"That's why you really came here tonight, in fact," Spock added cruelly. "You want me to do it again, don't you?"

"I'll never let you touch me again, you bastard," Kirk vowed, as much to himself as to Spock.

The Vulcan pushed him away in disgust, and Kirk sprawled on the floor with the force of it, stunned for a second.

"You can't really expect me to believe that. No, Jim, you came in here dressed like that hoping I would rape you. That would dispose of your responsibility in the matter, wouldn't it?"

Kirk turned away, trying to escape the blunt words. All his earlier justifications and beliefs lay as scattered on the floor as he was. Spock was right, at least about last night, and Kirk was too confused to argue with what he was saying now.

Spock knelt on the floor and jerked Kirk's chin around to face him. "Shall we play your game, Jim? Should I rip off your clothes?" Actions copied words as he easily disposed of the thin garment. His hand arrogantly caressed the heaving chest. Kirk's eyes squeezed shut, and he tried to pull away.

"No, Jim, we haven't finished. You want me to touch you." He slid his hand beneath the shorts and athletic supporter and encountered Kirk's erection. "How interesting. Especially for a man who professes to dislike being dominated. You do want me to rape you now, don't you?"

"No," Kirk gasped in denial. Hot tears stung his eyes. He felt humiliated by the way his body had betrayed him, and confused and hurt by Spock's actions.

Spock noticed Kirk's reaction and released his hold. He was trembling with the power of this moment, and had to pull back before he lost control. This was too pivotal a juncture for him to ruin it. Kirk curled away from him, and Spock saw his shoulders shaking.

"No, Jim," Spock said quietly. "You will not turn me into a rapist. There is no shame in what you want." His voice was soothing now.

"I don't understand any of this." The words were choked, hardly above a whisper.

Spock put a protective arm around him. "All your life you have chosen to be strong. You wanted to make the decisions, do all the controlling. You have admitted that the choice has made you lonely. You don't need to be any longer. Neither of us do. You have shown me how to reach out, to trust and depend on another." His lips brushed Kirk's hair, his voice dropped to a croon. "You need to trust and rely on me as I rely on you. Only you. All we need is each other. We don't have to hide what we are anymore." He tilted Kirk's face up. "Please, Jim, look at me."

Hesitantly, the eyes lifted. They were wide and filled with indecision and confusion. "What we do is between us. No one else. Now, tell me. Do you want me to make love to you?"

Kirk's breath caught in his throat, his vision blurred. Part of him wanted to run away from this, but more of him did want it. He felt that odd tingle in the back of his neck again, the old premonition of danger. But he trusted Spock. He did trust him. And he loved him.

"Yes," he blurted. "Yes." Once said, the words could never be denied again. He felt totally vulnerable.

Carefully, tenderly--triumphantly--Spock pulled the remainder of their clothes off, and made love to Kirk right there on the floor.

* * * *

"Bones, you got a minute?" Kirk stood outside McCoy's office, unsure of his welcome after his nastiness the day before.

"Yeah, sure. If you promise not to bite my head off."

"That's what I came down here about. I'd like to apologize for yesterday."

McCoy waved for him to sit down. "Apology accepted. Sometimes I push too hard. You just weren't in the mood to be pushed."

Kirk sat down gratefully. "Well, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I know you were just trying to help."

"Mmmm. You look tired. Have trouble sleeping?"

Kirk prayed he wasn't blushing. "A little. I had a lot of things on my mind."

"Where's Spock?" McCoy asked casually.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Kirk demanded, irritated.

"Just curious," McCoy said carefully. He had just confirmed his theory that the Vulcan was indeed the source of the problem.

They spoke of unimportant matters for a few moments, with McCoy filling him in on some of the latest gossip, before Kirk was called away to the bridge.

As Kirk rode up in the turbolift, he realized how good it had been to relax and talk to a friend. McCoy meant a lot to him, professionally and personally, and he had rather missed their conversations in the last few weeks. He had been so tied up with Spock, his opportunities to be with McCoy had been limited.

Kirk decided that one night soon he would find the time to crack a few bottles with Bones.

* * * *

For the next two weeks, the Enterprise was kept busy doing a survey of a newly discovered system. The gravitational fields were erratic and tricky, so the bridge crew spent long hours compensating for the irregular eddies that swept through the system. It was an interesting mission, but no one complained when the Enterprise finished the survey and headed out.

It was a tired crew, and eager for some distraction. Uhura's birthday was an excellent excuse for a party. It would let off steam and break the monotony.

The day of the proposed bash, Kirk sat in the mess hall eating a late dinner. Spock had been called to engineering for a computer problem, and he was alone.

"Howdy, stranger," came a sarcastic voice over his shoulder. McCoy plopped his tray down on the table. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," Kirk grinned, "sit down.'' He remembered guiltily that he had never gotten around to that long visit with the Doctor he had planned.

"I'll admit this social call has a purpose," McCoy began, pushing his apple pie around on the plate.

"With you, they always do," Kirk replied with mock resignation. "What have I done now?"

"Well, first of all, you run a ship with rotten apple pie. But I guess I can forgive you that." McCoy laid his fork down and became serious. "You haven't been showing up for crew functions in quite a while. You know how important that is."

Kirk did know. He had prided himself in maintaining a good rapport with his crew. Too many captains isolated themselves to the extent that they were virtually unaware of the cross currents in the moods of their people. The captain's ability to gauge his crew capacity for performance under stress at any given time was a critical factor in emergencies. You had to know who you could press and who you couldn't and why. Kirk wasn't foolproof at it, he still made mistakes, but he was better at it than most, and that knowledge had helped save the ship more than· once. He owed his success to his involvement with the crew, and lately he had been falling down on that part of it.

"You're right," Kirk agreed. "I've had my mind on other things. I'll watch it."

"You can start by showing your face more often. You haven't been in the gym much lately, and you missed the last chess tournament entirely."

"Okay, I get the picture," Kirk said, irritated at his persistence.

"Good," McCoy nodded. "That means I can expect to see you at Uhura's party tonight. Right?"

''I was planning on it, Bones," Kirk answered, maintaining his composure. "Reprimand noted." Inwardly, he groaned. It had been three days since he and Spock had had more than a few hours together. They had planned on spending the entire evening alone. But Spock would understand that this was important, too.

Kirk returned to his quarters and took a quick shower. He had dressed and was combing his hair when Spock entered.

"Where are you going?"

Kirk shivered at the tone of Spock's voice, so different from the cold, impersonal note he used on the bridge. "Uhura's party," he answered casually. "I know we were planning to play chess, but I really must go. I've been neglecting the crew lately. You should come, too. You'd enjoy it. I'm sure Uhura will sing."

"What I really enjoy cannot be accomplished at a crowded social gathering," Spock said archly, letting his gaze travel slowly over Kirk's body.

Kirk felt the look and was excited by it, and a bit exasperated that it should effect him so strongly. Resolutely, he turned away, ostensibly to adjust his uniform in the mirror. "There are other things in life," he said lightly.

"Not in mine."

The conviction in Spock's voice brought Kirk around to face the Vulcan. Once again, he was a little uneasy about the depth of Spock's commitment to him. "I really do have to make an appearance," he said seriously. "I've been slacking off recently."

"Not that I have noticed," Spock answered, moving toward him purposefully. "Spock, I mean it," Kirk laughed as he backed away.

"You are staying," Spock said simply. To enforce his point, he began to kiss Kirk, using all the skillful persuasion at his disposal. Soon they were intertwined, Spock's body trapping Kirk's to the wall. When they finally broke for air, it was a very confident Vulcan that looked down into his lover's eyes.

"I'm still going to the party, Spock." He watched Spock's face show his astonishment. "That'll teach you ·to be so complacent," Kirk grinned. "I have more will power than you give me credit for. A couple of years ago, I left these two girls who were--"

Kirk found himself slammed back against the wall, almost knocking the breath from him with the impact. Spock turned away and walked off a few feet, shaking with fury.

Kirk opened his mouth to blast him angrily, then realized what he had said. He had no right to fling his past in Spock's face like that. It was totally unfair. He hadn't meant anything by it, but it obviously hurt Spock just the same.

"Hey," Kirk said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Go to the party, if it means so much to you," Spock said coldly.

"It's nothing to what you mean to me," Kirk said sincerely. A long silence developed. It was clear that Spock wasn't going to ask him to stay. Kirk knew he had to undo the hurt he had unwittingly caused. He gently put his arms around the Vulcan. "I love you."

Spock remained rigid for several seconds before returning the embrace. "I did not mean to hurt you," Spock apologized.

"Nor I you," Kirk assured him. He let his hands roam more intimately over the lean body. "The hell with the party. They can get along without me one more night. I'd rather be here with you."

* * * *

The party was nearly over. McCoy had another drink, not caring that he was already drunk. He was trying to drown his anger, but it was doing just the opposite. He couldn't understand Jim anymore. It wasn't like him to disappoint Uhura like this. She hid her feelings well, but McCoy knew she had been expecting him.

The Doctor slammed his glass down and strode out of the rec room. //He'd better have one damn fine excuse,// McCoy thought furiously.

The discreet 'do not disturb' light was on beside the door signal, but McCoy was not in the mood to be polite. He took his physician's override key and opened the door.

The cabin was dimly lit, the outer room empty. He guessed that Kirk had gone to bed early, perhaps with one of his headaches, and he was momentarily guilty at barging in. But, headache or no, Kirk could have left word why he couldn't attend. McCoy moved toward the bedroom, but froze in his tracks when he saw through the dividing screen that Kirk was not alone--and his companion couldn't have shocked him more.

Kirk was lying with his head on Spock's shoulder, his body curled against the Vulcan's.

//My god, they're lovers!// The realization stunned him, then in the next second he wondered why he hadn't guessed sooner. But Jim and Spock? No, he would never have believed it in a mil lion years.

Through the shock, he felt a presence. With a jolt, he realized that Spock was awake and staring at him. He watched as Spock placed a possessive arm around Kirk, who stirred slightly at the touch, nestling closer.

The black eyes bored into him, openly daring him to object.

McCoy had to get away. He knew he was too drunk to deal with any of this. He turned to leave, embarrassment warring with anger. But mostly he felt sorry that Kirk hadn't trusted him enough to tell him. It would have explained a lot.

"Good night, Doctor."

The cool arrogance in the voice startled McCoy. He look d back and Spock was smiling. He stumbled out the door as quickly as he could, feeling totally confused and a little sick.

For some reason the smile reminded him of a successful predator.

* * * *

The alarm buzzer made its usual morning intrusion. The routine that had quickly asserted itself was pleasing to Kirk. It was comfortable 11aving someone to share with, someone who fit so easily into his life. As they stood side by side in front of the mirror shaving, Kirk savored the warm glow of contentment his relationship with Spock had created.

Spock, of course, used the more efficient and hygienic beard cream, but Kirk still favored the antiquated razor his grandfather had given him.

"Why do you bother?" Spock asked curiously, watching Kirk whiz through the procedure. "Your beard is not heavy enough to warrant daily attention."

"A sense of security," Kirk replied with a grin. "Back when I was a kid at the Academy, I didn't need to at all, but I was in there scraping away just the same. The rituals of adulthood mean a lot to people. I wasn't the only kid in there wasting space either." He tried to look offended. "Besides, I do need to shave now. It doesn't look like it now, but by this evening I would flay you alive. It might be hard to explain how you got whisker burns."

"Yes, sir," Spock said skeptically, studying Kirk in the mirror. His expression became serious. "You are so beautiful, Jim."

"Thank you ...I guess," Kirk said uncomfortably. For the first time, he studied Spock in return, searchingly. "So are you," he replied, surprised at the revelation. His perception of beauty had shifted somewhat in the last few weeks. If someone had told him a year ago that he would apply the word beautiful to a rather skinny, somewhat hairy Vulcan male, he would have thought it hilarious.

They continued to stare at each other for several minutes, until Kirk noticed that the towel around his waist was hanging at an odd angle.

"Really, Jim," Spock teased, "we are due on the bridge."

Kirk grinned and turned obediently to the other room to dress. A hand connected firmly with his ass, and he yelped. The Vulcan continued walking innocently around him. They dressed in companionable silence and left together.

Kirk was thinking how beautiful Spock's strength was, too.

* * * *

McCoy stayed near Sickbay all day, recovering from his hangover, and waiting for Jim to show up with that 'boy have I got caught this time' expression on his face that McCoy knew so well. He expected Kirk to have a dozen explanations for the secrecy, and while McCoy knew his curiosity was a bit presumptuous, he felt he had a right to know. Ordinarily, it wouldn't be any of his business whom Kirk went to bed with, but this was Spock. It made all the difference in the world. It still vexed him that Kirk hadn't seen fit to even hint at this new development. ·

At this point, McCoy was almost ready to believed he had imagined the hostile impressions he had gotten from Spock the night before. After all, he had barged in on them, and he couldn't expect the Vulcan to have been glad to see him under the circumstances. But there was the lingering feeling that it went far deeper than that. Spock hadn't been embarrassed or even surprised. There was more a sense of ...gloating in his attitude that nagged at McCoy as being totally out of character. It made him extremely uneasy, and he hoped Kirk would be able to make some sense out of this whole thing.

The watch ended, and there was still no sign of the Captain. The longer he waited, the angrier he became. He felt he deserved some explanation after last night, if nothing more than 'mind your own damn business, Bones.' Finally, McCoy snapped into the intercom, "Captain Kirk, report to Sickbay." He didn't even make it a request. Sometimes it was very useful to be the only one on the ship who could get away with giving orders to the captain.

Kirk appeared a short time later, looking a bit disheveled and in a hurry. "This had better be good," he said expectantly, arms folded across his chest. "I was in engineering and we were--"

"I think it is," McCoy cut in stiffly. "Have a seat."

Kirk looked impatient. "Can't this wait? We were right in the middle of--"

"Damn it, Jim! I'm sure Scotty can handle it better than you." McCoy forced himself to calm down. "Okay, let's start again. Yes, I think this is important, and I would appreciate your undivided attention."

Kirk shrugged and sat down, waiting for McCoy to begin.

The Doctor shuffled tapes on his desk nervously, hardly knowing where to start. "I thought we needed to talk...after what happened last night."

Kirk sighed. "I'm sorry about that, Bones. I already apologized to Uhura. I just couldn't get away, that's all." Kirk had expected McCoy to chew him out, but he still felt he had done the right thing in staying with Spock.

McCoy was dumbfounded. Kirk didn't seem in the least uncomfortable. Was Kirk trying to ask him to ignore the whole thing? It wouldn't work. "What did you tell Uhura?" he asked sharply. "That you couldn't make it to her party because you had to go to bed with your First Officer?"

The shocked look on Kirk's face was genuine. So was the blush that reddened his skin.

"What did you say?"

"He didn't tell you." It was a statement. McCoy was suddenly very sure.

"Tell me what? Who?"

"Spock," McCoy said, embarrassed himself now. "l walked in on the two of you last night. You were sleeping, but Spock was wide awake. I just assumed he would have told you."

"No...no, he didn't." He met McCoy's eyes tentatively. "Well?"

"It just took me by surprise, that's all. You might have let me know how it was with you two. It would have saved a lot of embarrassment."

"Sorry. You're right. I meant to tell you, but•••well, the right time never came. It's kind of hard to work into a conversation."

McCoy grinned. "Yeah, I guess it would be at that. It kind of threw me for a loop. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I love him, if that counts for anything."

"Well, if you're both happy with it, that's what matters. Spock seemed..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing really. I was just wondering how he's handling all of this. After all these years of holding everything back...well, it's quite a switch."

"He's doing okay," Kirk said cautiously. "I just wonder why he didn't tell me about last night."

McCoy had an answer for that, but he wasn't sure enough to voice it just yet.

Kirk got up to leave. "Listen, I've got to get back to work. How about if we split a bottle in your quarters tonight?"

"Fine with me, Jim-boy. I've got some saved up." Kirk smiled. "Good. I'll see you later."

* * * *

When Kirk walked into his quarters that evening, Spock was already there. Kirk confronted him without wasting any time.

"Do you know what you put me through this morning?"

Spock turned off the reader and stared at his tightly clenched hands. "I am assuming you spoke with Doctor McCoy."

"Well, that's a logical assumption. Why didn't you also assume that I'd have preferred to be prepared before walking into a conversation like that? Why didn't you tell me he saw us here last night? It was a little awkward to explain on the spur of the moment. I felt like a damn fool."

"I'm sorry, Jim. I should have warned you of the Doctor's attitude, but I was hoping he would have the decency to remain silent."

"What do you mean, 'attitude'? He just wanted to know what was going on. He's our friend, he has a right to know."

"The Doctor made his disapproval quite apparent last night. But I am quite sure he has known for weeks, always snooping and prying into other people's affairs. Especially yours, Jim."

"If he knew earlier, he would have said so. And I still don't know what you mean. He's concerned, but that's part of his job, you know that. I don't think disapproval is the right word."

"But it is. You did not see the…the disgust on his face when he saw us."

"Now, wait a minute," Kirk protested. "Bones is no prude. He was surprised, certainly. You just misunderstood--"

"No, Jim," Spock broke in earnestly. "Perhaps he is wise enough to conceal it from you, but he hates me. He is appalled by our love. I was afraid to tell you...afraid it would change your feeling for me."

The insecurity in Spock's voice and expression tore at Kirk. "Spock," he said carefully, "I love you. Nothing will change that. You're very wrong about McCoy. You've simply never understood each other. "

"Perhaps you are right," Spock said slowly. "Would it please you if I tried to talk to him again?"

Kirk hugged Spock gratefully, relieved that the problem could be settled so easily. "Yes, it would please me a great deal."

Spock gathered Kirk to him, but Kirk pulled back after a moment.

"Let's not get anything started," he warned. "I promised I'd see Bones tonight. I might be pretty late getting back."

"Very well," Spock said formally. "I will be in the Science Lab if you need me."

Kirk sighed as he watched the stiffness of the Vulcan's shoulders as he left. Spock's opinion of McCoy disturbed him. He didn't like them to be at odds, it always put him in the middle.

A short time later, he was sitting in McCoy's quarters, watching him pour out the drinks.<

"I hope you've got something that w:ill knock us both on our asses, Bones."

"Don't worry. This is guaranteed to grow hair on your chest, or your money back."

"Really?" Kirk said with interest.

"But in your case, I wouldn't count on it," McCoy chuckled.

Kirk made a face, and downed the glass. "This is terrible," he choked out, eyes watering.

"Yeah, but after the second round, it's great."

They drank steadily for about an hour, talking of inconsequential things, both afraid to broach what they both wanted to talk about.

"Well, you might as well get to it," Kirk prompted at last. He was pleasantly drunk and very relaxed. He felt he could even talk to his mother about Spock now.

McCoy snorted with laughter. "You son of a bitch," he finally managed, seeing the familiar glint of mischief in the hazel eyes. "You reading minds, now? I thought that was Spock's act. Okay, you really surprised me."

Kirk poured himself another shot. "God, this is awful stuff, but it sure does the trick." He met McCoy's eyes boldly. "Frankly, Doctor, I surprised myself."

"So...how did it happen? Why Spock? For that matter, why a man?"

''He loves me," Kirk said simply. "He needed me. As for the man part...well, it's not something I'd go looking for, but it doesn't bother me either. I guess you never know what you'll go for given a chance."

Since Kirk seemed willing to talk openly, McCoy decided to delve a little deeper. "You say you two love each other, okay, I'll buy that. If it works, it works. But he is a Vulcan, Jim. You can't get around that. Does he even know what love is?"

Kirk's expression darkened. "That's a pretty ethnocentric statement, Bones. You surprise me. He had to learn to love, just like the rest of us. He just needed some reassurance, someone to help him understand himself better. Besides, he's half Human, remember."

"I never forget," McCoy replied cryptically. "But I think you sometimes put too much emphasis on that, and forget that the dominant part of him is Vulcan. I've never been convinced the mixture was all that stable. Kind of like matter and anti-matter. As long as you keep them in separate compartments, they're fine--it's when you try to mix them that you tempt fate."

Kirk didn't care for the simile. "What's so bad about that?" he demanded. "It runs the ship, doesn't it?"

"Unless it gets out of control," McCoy added thoughtfully.

"Okay, so Spock needs a little help adjusting to this. That's not unusual, we all do sometimes," Kirk said defensively.

"That's another thing. Why do you always see Spock as so helpless? Even before you...started sleeping with him, you were always protecting him. You seem to think of him as this innocent plunked down among a ship full of heartless barbarians."

"Well, he is in a lot of ways! He can't protect himself when people hurt him, so he hides behind that shell of his. People don't try to understand him, they just treat him like a computer. Even you, sometimes," he accused. "It's no wonder he lives up to their expectations."

McCoy didn't answer. He studied Kirk for a minute, then decided to change the

subject. "Well, here's to happiness," he said, lifting his glass for a toast.

"For everyone," Kirk smiled, relaxing.

McCoy wished it fervently for Kirk, but had doubts of him ever finding it with Spock. He couldn't forget the possessive gleam in the Vulcan's eyes.

"I've got to get going," Kirk said, finishing off his glass. "It's late." He got to his feet and swayed a little. "Shit, am I ever plastered."

"Need any help?" McCoy offered sympathetically. "I'm not that plastered, but thanks anyway."

"Before you go," McCoy interjected, "did Spock ever tell you why he didn't mention last night to you?"

Kirk looked uncomfortable. "He misinterpreted your reaction. I know it's crazy, but he thought you didn't approve, and that...well, that you might try to talk me into leaving him or something. It really seemed to upset him."

Warning bells went off in McCoy's head. "Jim," he said carefully, "he was the one acting weird last night. He spoke to me. It didn't bother him at all that I'd walked in like that. I think he was glad I did. It's hard to describe, but he was..." McCoy started to bite his tongue, but said it anyway, "Hell, he was positively smug about it. Like he was enjoying my embarrassment."

Kirk's expression hardened. "That's stupid. Why do you always think the worst of him?" he accused angrily. "You've already said you were drunk. How can you be sure of what you think you saw?"

''Okay, I'm sorry I brought it up," McCoy said quickly. He didn't want Kirk getting angry with him. It suddenly seemed very important to keep the lines of communication open between them. He had a bad feeling about all of this, and knew Kirk wouldn't be able to handle it alone. "Just forget it."

Kirk took a deep breath. "Yeah, we're both smashed. I'll talk to you tomorrow. 'Night."

As he made his way down the corridor toward his quarters, Kirk concentrated on walking reasonably straight. In spite of his quick defense, he felt uneasy about some of the things McCoy had said. Abruptly, he changed his course and headed for Spock's cabin.

Spock's door opened to Kirk's voice command. Without turning on the lights, he made his way to the bedroom. Feeling a little dizzy, Kirk quietly sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall near the bed, watching the Vulcan sleep.

It had amazed Kirk that Spock never slept as one would expect a Vulcan to, flat on his back, rigidly correct even in slumber. Spock was prone to toss and turn and grab for something to hold on to. Now, he was clutching the pillow, tightly, but his breathing was easy and his rest seemed peaceful for once. The black hair glowed sleek and dark in the reddish flicker of the firepot. He almost reached out to touch the silken texture of it. There was nothing boyish about the face. It was strong, stubborn, determined. And for all its present calmness, he sensed no serenity behind it.

So preoccupied with his own thoughts, he didn't notice when Spock awoke. "Jim?"

Kirk met the dark eyes steadily. "You've never told me that you love me," he said simply. "Why is that?"

Spock reached out his hand. "Come, let me show you." "No. I want an answer. I need to know. Do you love me?"

Spock turned on the light by the bed. "What is all this nonsense, Jim?" "Why don't you answer me?" Kirk demanded.

Becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Spock evaded. "It is a foolish question. You know the answer. I honor you, protect you. I want you near me always, and will never let you go."

"I'm not sure if that's the same thing, Spock." He hugged his knees to his chest protectively. ''I'm tired of second-guessing you. Sometimes I don't think we see things the same way at all. It scares me."

"You have been drinking," Spock accused abruptly. "Yes...too much probably."

"Let me help you."

Kirk allowed Spock to help him to the bed and undress him.

"Bones and I killed a bottle of something really vile. I'll probably be sick as a dog tomorrow."

At the mention of the Doctor, Spock's fingers froze on the boot he was tugging off Kirk. "Were you talking about us?"

"Yeah," Kirk said vaguely. The alcohol was hitting him strongly now, and he was just tired and wanted to sleep it off.

Spock removed the last of Kirk's clothes methodically, and pulled the cover up around him. As Kirk started to doze off, he murmured, "I really wish you could say it, Spock ..."

Inwardly, the Vulcan seethed with anger. McCoy. Always interfering. Making Kirk question. Love, what a ridiculous concept. One satisfied one's needs, no more. Emotions were to be used, not felt. Vulcans knew this; it was always Humans that wanted to make more of it. And now the cunning Doctor was going to use this to drive a wedge between him and Jim.

Spock smiled to himself. There was a way to deal with the meddlesome Doctor.

* * * *

McCoy already had a visitor in his office when he arrived there the next morning, but not the one he had been expecting. Considering his own limited intake and the size of his hangover, he knew Jim must be feeling like hell. He had stopped by his quart rs to offer some medicine, but he hadn't been there. Since McCoy had no intention of buzzing Spock's quarters to find him, he had decided Kirk would just have to come to Sickbay for it.

"Well, Spock, I didn't expect to see you here," McCoy commented neutrally.

"I can assure you, Doctor, that I am not here to socialize. I came here to demand respect for my privacy."

"If you're talking about the other night, I'm sorry. But I had no way of knowing what the situation was, or that you would be with Jim--"

"I'm speaking of last night. You had no right discussing my relationship with the Captain."

"Now, wait a minute," McCoy said hotly. "I happened to have been discussing it with Jim. I think he has the right to talk it over with someone if he chooses. It does concern him, too, you know."

"I will take care of anything that concerns him. And I will not have the incident repeated. Am I making myself clear?

McCoy stared at him. "Maybe clearer than you know. What's wrong with you, Spock? This isn't like you at all."

"There is nothing wrong with me, Doctor. I am simply demanding the privacy that is my due. Stay away from Jim, or you will face the consequences."

"I don't give a damn about your privacy, Spock. But I do care about Jim. I've been trying to give you the benefit of a doubt, but now I'm beginning to think you're even more cold-blooded than I thought. In fact, I'm beginning to think you've flipped all together.".

"If so," Spock returned calmly, "there is a method in my madness. And you would do well not to interfere."

"My god. You're threatening me, aren't you?"

"What did you say to him last night?" Spock demanded, ignoring the question.

"That's none of your business," McCoy snapped.

"On the contrary, Doctor. Anything that concerns Jim is my primary interest. The sooner you understand that, the easier the situation will become for both of us. He is mine, and you can do nothing to alter the fact." There was enough insolence in the tone to cause McCoy to explode completely.

"You son of a bitch! It's pity Jim feels for you…maybe even love...but he doesn't know what an ice-hearted bastard you are. How can you talk about him like you own him or something?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I believe you Humans have a phrase--body and soul."

For a second, McCoy was totally speechless. This was a nightmare. "Listen, Spock," McCoy said furiously, "I don't know how you did it, but you hoodwinked Jim into some kind of relationship with you that's going to end up hurting him, and I won't stand for it. I'm going to do everything in my power to see that he finds out what you're really like. You're a coldblooded, egotistical bastard who's made Jim feel responsible for you. You've taken advantage of his friendship and love and it'll kill him when he finds out what you've done."

"Just take care it doesn't kill you, Doctor."

McCoy watched him leave, unable to respond, hardly able to move. Kirk was in more trouble than he'd imagined. And Spock--Spock was sick. There was no longer any doubt in McCoy's mind. Something had snapped in the Vulcan, and it frightened McCoy to think what the end of this would be.

* * * *

Kirk was not having a good day. To top off his hangover, there was a problem with one of the impulse engines. Scotty was having a fit, so Kirk spent several hours in engineering keeping things organized while Scotty worked his magic. Spock had been very quiet, almost brooding, so Kirk had sent him back to the bridge to check out the fuel equations for a possible slip up there. McCoy paged him several times, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with either of them. The ship, as always, came first. Also, he had no desire to hash over their discussion of the night before.

"That aboot does it, sir," Scotty exclaimed at last. "The rest of it, will have ta wait 'till we get ta the Starbase."

"Right. You did a fine job, Scotty. This time I think we'd better get that overhaul we've been putting off for six months." He slapped the engineer on the shoulder gratefully, and headed off in the direction of his quarters.

The sight of Spock sitting solemnly in his room greeted his arrival. The Vulcan's expression made him feel more exhausted than ever. "I'm too tired to argue, Spock."

"I do not wish to argue, Jim," Spock said softly.

"Well something's wrong. I can tell. I don't feel like spending all night trying to drag it out of you either."

Silently, Spock rose and moved toward the door.

"Spock, come back. I'm sorry I snapped at you." He dropped into a chair wearily. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Spock bowed his head. 1 spoke to Dr. McCoy today, as you suggested."

"Yes? Well?"

"I was correct in my first impression." Ignoring Kirk's groan of exasperation, he continued. "But I was underestimating the degree of his animosity. He informed me in no uncertain terms that you loved me only out of pity, and that he would do anything in his power to come between us."

"Spock, I'm sure he didn't--"

"You do not believe me."

"Of course I do. It's just...well, you probably misunderstood him."

"You told me that you dislike 'second guessing' me. Why are you doing that now? I have factually reported a conversation that threatens our relationship, and you question my veracity."

"I'm sor--" Kirk clamped his mouth shut on the word. He was tired of apologizing. "I'm going to talk to him and get this thing straight once and for all."

"He is jealous, Jim," Spock added quickly. "He is afraid of our closeness, and determined to stop it. Do not let him turn you against me." 

"No one can do that," Kirk soothed. "And Bones would never even want to. I'm sure of that." He squeezed Spock's arm lovingly, and confidently headed for Sickbay.

McCoy was still there, waiting for Kirk as he had been all day.

Kirk dropped down in the chair across from him and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry it's taken me so long to get down here. Things have been a mess in engineering."

"It's been something of a mess here, too," McCoy said flatly. "Probably the worst one I've ever had to face."

Kirk looked at him sharply. "You know, Spock has this crazy idea you want to come between him and me. That you don't approve of what we're doing."

"He's right."

Kirk's face darkened. He leaned forward. "You really said those things to him? That I loved him out of pity and that you were going to try to stop it?"

"I said it, yes. And meant it."

Kirk stood abruptly, and headed for the door. McCoy jumped up and caught his arm, pulling him back around.

"Let me explain--"

"Explain!" Kirk jerked free of the grip and glared at him. "I don't know how you plan to explain hurting Spock like that. You didn't have any right to say those things to him. I gave you every opportunity to talk to me. Now he's scared you'll have some influence on me. He was insecure already, this is all he needs!"

"Jim, listen to me for god's sake! He's sick. Maybe he can't even help himself. But he's obsessed with you. Can't you see it? He's cutting you off from everyone, trying to control your life."

"Spock is right," Kirk said coldly, "You're jealous. In spite of all· your disagreements, deep down I thought you liked Spock, but he was right about that, too. You hate him. Well, I've heard enough. From now on, you mind your own business and stay out of our way, is that clear?"

Too hurt and frustrated to be cautious, McCoy called after him, "Your poor, insecure, scared Vulcan was practically bragging about fucking you. Said he owned you body and soul."

The words froze Kirk. Every muscle rigid with fury, he spun around. "You lying bastard. If I had any doubts about this, you've just blown them all away. You're the one who needs help, not Spock."

Kirk returned to his quarters feeling as depressed as he could ever remember being.

Spock had a tray of food on the desk waiting for him.

"You have not eaten today," Spock explained solicitously. "Sit down." "Don't you want to know what happened?"

"I do not think the Doctor would lie to you about what happened. I trust you to have taken any action necessary."

"I guess I did," Kirk replied listlessly. He sat down and ate a couple of bites, then pushed the tray away. "I'm too damn tired to do anything. I'm going to bed." He had just lost his best friend, and Spock seemed to think everything was fine.

Kirk lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing the painful knot in his chest would go away.

Spock sat down beside him. "Jim, I do not mean to make light of what occurred between the Doctor and yourself. I know it has upset you. But perhaps his attitude will improve when he realizes there is nothing he can do to interfere."

Kirk didn't answer. He rolled over onto his stomach, and buried his head in his arms.

Spock sat beside Kirk until he fell into an exhausted sleep. Triumph filled him at the ease with which he had eliminated McCoy. Soon now it would all fall into place and he would achieve his final goal.

* * * *

In one of the quieter hotels on Starbase 8, Spock watched the dawn light creep across the room. Kirk was asleep in his arms, and the Vulcan was momentarily content. Their leave had officially begun two days ago, but Kirk had insisted on remaining with the ship until Mr. Scott assured him that the repairs were well in hand. The problem with the impulse engine had reoccurred, making the proposed overhaul a necessity this time. As it was, it took them four days to limp back to the base, and Kirk had consistently worked at least eighteen hours every day, constantly troubleshooting and anticipating other problems. To Spock's fury, their time together had been almost nonexistent.

But they were together now, and Spock planned to make sure it stayed that way. "Good morning, Jim," Spock said upon seeing the hazel eyes open.

"Sure is," Kirk agreed sleepily, kissing the shoulder he nestled against. "And we have seven days left. What are we going to do?" He felt a caressing hand. "Nope, we've done that already--several times." Pulling out of the embrace, he rolled out of bed and stretched with a groan. "We've been in this room for twenty-six hours, and I'm beginning to get cabin fever. Let's shower and get some breakfast."

"We can have it sent up," Spock suggested.

"Not again!" Kirk laughed and threw a pillow at him. "Let's try the restaurant across the street."

They did shower, but it managed to lead to other things, so it was lunch they finally sat down to a few hours later. Spock was unable to take his eyes off the Human. Jim looked so carefree and young when he was away from the responsibilities of the ship.

"Damn, I thought it was you!"

They both turned in the direction of the intrusive shout, as did the rest of the diners.

"Greg!" Kirk's exclamation was almost as loud. He jumped up and the two men shook hands and pounded each other on the back. "I didn't know the Champion was in port. "

"It isn't, you dumb son of a bitch. I'm on the Excalibur now. I know how rough it is for such important personages as yourself to keep in touch with all the little peons, but I figured you knew that much." The grin took all the sting out of his words, but Spock was appalled at the insubordination, and watched in disbelief as Kirk just burst out laughing.

"We've been out for a while, and I haven't had time to keep up with things. So they made you first officer of the Excalibur, huh? What's the 'Fleet coming to?" He finally noticed Spock's discomfort. "Oh, Greg, this is my First Officer, Mr. Spock. Spock, this is an old friend of mine from the Academy, Commander Greg Thompson. We graduated in the same class."

"But he could shine brass better, so they made him a captain," Thompson added with a wink. "Pleased to meet you, Spock." He had the good manners to know not to reach for a Vulcan's hand. Thompson turned his attention back to Kirk. "Well, how the hell have you been, old chum? You don't know how glad I am to see you."

"Uh oh. Okay, what do you want?" Kirk asked with mock suspicion. "You see, Spock, Greg here has an angle for everything. He must have some deal cooking and needs my help. I can tell by the sneaky look in the eyes." He leaned back, grinning.

"Oh, you wrong me, Jimmy," Thompson said sadly. "Now I know how you got to be a captain so fast; you mistrust even your dearest friends." He paused a beat. "But, now that you mention it--"

"I knew it. Go on," Kirk prompted.

"We have this soccer team on the Excalibur and we've made arrangements to play a team from a commercial freighter, the Millissa. We've done some scouting, and it looks like we're pretty evenly matched. The thing is..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "we've laid down some hefty little bets on this, and frankly, we could use your nimble feet."

"I imagine they've done enough scouting on your team to know that I'm not from the Excalibur," Kirk protested halfheartedly. He hadn't been in a good game for months, and the idea delighted him.

"No problem, Jim. When I found out your ship was in, I told the team captain that I had this old friend who'd really like to play... just for old time's sake, you understand. When he found out it was a captain of a starship, he was absolutely tickled to death with the idea." His eyes widened innocently. "Can I help it if he assumed you were pushing sixty and couldn't run the length of the field without needing a tri-ox hypo? It's not my fault you happen to be the baby-captain of Starfleet."

"You probably even talked him into giving you points, too, didn't you?"

"A few," Thompson admitted modestly. "Well, you going for it?"

"What time and where?" Kirk replied immediately.

"I was under the assumption that we had plans, Jim," Spock broke in sharply.

Thompson's head shot up at the tone, surprised. ··

"Nothing definite," Kirk said lightly, shooting a hard look at Spock. He turned back to Thompson.

"Okay, then, see you at two on the base playing field." He rose to leave. "Nice meeting you, Spock."i With a cheery wave he was gone.

"I'd better get changed," Kirk said quickly. "You don't mind do you, Spock? It won't last long."

Before Spock could reply, Kirk was already heading back to the hotel. Spock followed, making no secret of his disapproval. But Kirk studiously ignored it.

"Jim," Spock began at last.

Kirk was pulling on his track shorts, having tossed his clothes hurriedly on the bed. "I've got to get warmed up. It's been a while since I've had the chance to play."

"Jim," Spock repeated, exasperated. "I thought we planned to spend our leave together."

Kirk paused. "We will, Spock. But we need to do other things, too. We're together all the time on the ship, anyway. Remember? You, me, four hundred and twenty-eight other beings all closed up together--"

"And that is why I wanted to be alone with you," Spock broke in.

"Well, sure...but not today. We'll have almost a week. I haven't seen Greg in a couple of years."

"You are not going," Spock said firmly.

Kirk felt claustrophobic, as he had several times with Spock lately. As much as he loved Spock, he couldn't stand being smothered. "I am going. I'll be back in a few hours."

Spock remained silent.

Kirk tightened the bindings on his shoe and straightened. He decided to change the subject. "Hey, how did your session with McCoy go?"

"That was three days ago," Spock said reprovingly, reminding Kirk that they had had little opportunity to talk since.

"Any problem?"

"It was as unpleasant as I expected, if that is what you wish to know."

McCoy had been pressing Spock to undergo his quarterly physical for the last three weeks. He had avoided it as long as possible, but time had run out. Kirk had been too busy with the ship to intervene for him, and McCoy had given him no choice but to comply or be relieved of duty.

Kirk sighed. "I'd hoped he would have cooled down by now. We'll just have to wait him out, I guess." There was a wistful note in Kirk's voice that annoyed the Vulcan.

"I will come with you," Spock said abruptly.

"You hate sports," Kirk countered, suddenly irritated. "Just give me a little air, Spock!" He bit his lip. "Sorry. I'll be back later, okay?"

Spock didn't answer, and Kirk turned on his heel and left.

Spock watched him go, his anger barely controlled. He waited ten minutes, then followed. At the playing field, he found an anonymous niche and watched Kirk--and Thompson. They seemed far too close. They laughed too much...touched...

When Spock returned to the hotel, he had made a decision. It was time to complete the last phase of his plan. There would be no more delays. He would never again share Jim's attentions with anyone...or anything.

* * * *

Kirk banged into the room and threw himself into a chair, exhausted but very pleased with himself. It had been a very satisfying day. He hadn't lost his knack, and they had won easily. Only three of the opposing players had threatened to break both his legs if they ever saw him again. Being a ringer had its drawbacks.

Hearing him return, Spock came in from the terrace. "From your attitude, I assume you were successful."

Kirk grinned happily. "It was great. They didn't know what hit them. Greg and I always played well together."

"I see." The voice was noncommittal.

Kirk paused, unsure of how to proceed. "Greg invited us out to dinner tonight...to celebrate. He said to bring you, if you wanted to come." Another pause. "I told him we would."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? Because I want to. The Excalibur is leaving tomorrow, and I probably won't see Greg for a long time." His jaw clenched stubbornly. "I don't see why I have to make excuses. If you don't want to come with me, don't."

Spock remained silent.

Kirk shrugged. "He should be calling soon to let me know where to meet him. I'm going to take a shower."

He took a long time in the shower, unwilling to face the Vulcan's disapproval. Spock's attitude confused and irritated him. He was tired of placating him, and was beginning to resent the feeling of guilt for simply living his life as he had always done.

When he returned to the main room, he found that Spock was once again on the terrace. There was a calmness about the figure that should have relieved Kirk, but strangely did not. Kirk joined him in looking out over the city.

"What did you do today?" Kirk asked lightly.

"I waited for you."

"That's hardly a constructive way to fill your time." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Any calls?"

"Nothing important."

"I should have heard from Greg by now. Maybe something came up on his ship." Kirk stretched out on the lounger and studied the sky. It was already dark, and the stars were beau ti fully clear.

Soon Kirk felt Spock settle beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. He relaxed into the embrace, glad Spock was coming out of his sulk.

"The sky is glorious tonight. Isn't it time for one of your light shows?" Kirk teased.

"If it would please you," the Vulcan replied quietly. "However, the inhabitants might object to losing their only satellite."

As Kirk turned to look at him curiously, the vid-phone beeped. "I will answer," Spock said immediately.

Kirk caught his arm. "No." For a couple of seconds, he stared at the Vulcan, feeling the familiar tingle of trouble in the back of his neck. "No, I think I'll get it this time."

He left Spock there and returned to the main room. When he activated the connection, he was greeted by McCoy's face.

"Thank god, I finally got you," the Doctor said tiredly. "I've been trying for a day and a half. I finally had to insist on an emergency override to get a direct line." He paused. "Is Spock there?"

"No, he's on the terrace. What's this all about? Why couldn't you get through to me?"

"Never mind that now. It's part of everything else. I'll explain when you get here." 

"You'd better explain right now. What the hell is going. on?"

McCoy hesitated. "I have to talk to you. The results of Spock's physical--"

"What's wrong?" Kirk broke in, worried.

"Plenty. But I can't tell you this way. Come back to the ship. Believe me, Jim, it's urgent."

"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He turned off the vid-screen and stood there for a moment, trying to think. Feeling the Vulcan's presence in the room, he turned.

"Spock," he said slowly, almost afraid to hear the answer, "have you been screening my calls?"

The Vulcan's expression remained impassive. "Yes, Jim."

Kirk sat down, trying to take it all in. "Why?" he asked calmly.

"Because you do not need anyone else. I did not want you to be bothered."

The anger built slowly. "How dare you decide that? You had no right--"

"I have every right," Spock cut in bluntly. "You are mine. I will not share you with anyone else."

"What?!" Kirk had expected the usual insecurity, not cold declarations.

"You heard correctly. You do not need McCoy, Thompson, or anyone else''

"That does it," Kirk said flatly. "It's time you understood a few things, Spock. Loving someone doesn't give you the right to control their lives. You don't own me. Right now you're smothering me, and I can't take it. Maybe this is hard for you to comprehend, but I need a little freedom. We don't exist in a vacuum and I can't live my life around you and only you."

"I am a better judge of what you need," Spock replied with quiet confidence.

Kirk was dumbfounded. Nothing he said was getting through to Spock. They weren't communicating. Suddenly, he wondered if they ever had. Spock moved forward and reached out for him. Kirk jerked away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I want to make love to you."

"Now? Are you kidding? That won't solve anything, Spock. Not this time."

"There is nothing to solve.''

"Why do you always do this? We can't run from the problems anymore; we have to talk about them."

"Why do I do this? Because when I take you, that is the only time I am certain you are thinking only of me."

The time was past when that type of statement could make him feel guilty. Now it produced anger, frustration, and a vague sense of apprehension.

"I'm going to the ship," Kirk said abruptly, unable to take any more of this. "We'll settle this when I get back."

Spock didn't try to stop him. He smiled as the door shut behind Kirk. //Yes, Jim,// he thought. //We will settle it.//

* * * *

"Where the hell have you been?" McCoy demanded. "I've been waiting for over an

hour. I was beginning to think Spock had stopped you from coming." "You think he would do that?" Kirk asked quietly.

"At this point, I'm not sure what he would do. You know he was stopping your calls?" Kirk nodded. "He told me."

McCoy didn't seem surprised. "He's probably reached the stage where he doesn't think he needs to hide it anymore. His delusion has progressed to the point where he's convinced he is controlling everything, and there's no further point in concealing it."

Kirk came out of his reverie and sharpened to attention. "Delusion? Stage? What are you talking about, Bones? What's going on?"

McCoy hesitated, afraid of Kirk's reaction. "It's time you faced it, Jim. Spock is very sick. More so than I imagined."

"Sick?" Kirk repeated dully. "You found something in his physical? What's wrong with him?"

"Mentally sick, Jim. I tried to tell you before, but I didn't realize the extent of it."

Kirk sat back, feeling ill. "No," he denied automatically. "I don't believe it. You must be wrong."

"You do believe it, Jim. You've noticed the change in his behavior, especially in the last week or so. It's accelerating--probably because the results of his actions were so successful. Playing on your sense of responsibility and guilt to make you Jove him; weeding you away from the crew, from your friends, from me. His plans worked so well, they justified themselves. It's a nasty circle--his madness instigating his actions, and the tangible outcome of them fueling his madness."

"No," Kirk said again. "He's just...confused. He's trying to be Human with me, and Vulcan with himself. He can't cope. I agree, he needs help maybe, but--"

"Jim, you have to accept it! " McCoy turned the desk viewer toward Kirk. "Take a look for yourself. These are the results of his tests. Every one of them shows a marked decline from the ones he had six months ago--and the contrast with these and the ones a year ago is even greater. The Robbiani dermo-optic is the most conclusive, and it shows definite signs of mental aberrations."

"Those tests aren't conclusive with Vulcans," Kirk maintained stubbornly. "You can't be sure."

"Sure enough to log him unfit for duty and have him placed in a base hospital for further observation."

Kirk stood. "You wouldn't do that."

"I don't have a choice, Jim. You don't seem to realize how serious this is. Spock could well be a danger to you, to himself, or to the ship. We can't risk it."

"Okay," Kirk said desperately. "I admit he has problems. That he could use some therapy maybe. But he can't be as ill as you say. He doesn't ... Damn it, Bones, he doesn't act crazy! Possessive, jealous...but those are just ordinary Human weaknesses. He hasn't learned to handle them yet. Maybe you're Jetting your personal feelings color your judgement."

McCoy took a deep breath. "I could resent that, I suppose, but I know you're scared of the truth and are doing your damndest to hide from it. I don't blame you; I didn't want to believe it either. Spock is insane. He is coldly, rationally insane. It sounds like a contradiction in terms, but he's Vulcan. He is still logical up to a point, but his logic is all twisted and bent."

Kirk couldn't speak for a moment, his throat was too choked. Finally he was able to say one word. "Why?"

"Maybe it was inevitable, I don't know. We can only guess at the pressure he's been under all his life. We've seen some of it. He's been pulled two ways for nearly forty years. I suppose in some ways it's surprising that he hasn't broken before now."

Kirk shut his eyes tightly. "It's my fault," he whispered. "I pushed him more than anybody."

"No!" McCoy said emphatically. "You. can't blame yourself for this, Jim. It's been developing for a long time, even before he ever met you. I think the pon farr might have been the trigger. All that pressure and pain and confusion probably cracked the control he was holding on his sanity. It's my fault, if anybody's. I should have caught it earlier. There were indications. In the ice age on Sarpeidon, I even saw it, but I attributed it to something else entirely."

Kirk's shoulders slumped in resignation. "If what you say is true, then I did the worse possible thing by letting him love me. By loving him back." His eyes met McCoy's, tortured. "I do love him, Bones It wasn't pity. I love him, and no matter how you look at it, that has ultimately hurt him."

"It's not your fault, Jim," McCoy said firmly. "You couldn't know. He knows you so well. He could play you so skillfully you would never suspect what he was doing--until now, when he's letting down his guards. He doesn't think he has to be careful anymore. He's achieved his goal. But you can't blame yourself for any of this. You’re just the focus of his madness, not the cause."

Kirk ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "So what do we do? How do we help him? Take him back to Vulcan?"

McCoy shook his head. "I don't think they could help him any more than a Base hospital. From what I've read, mental illness is extremely rare on Vulcan. And Spock, being a hybrid, would be a special case anyway."

Kirk stood, his entire body radiating despondency. "I'll bring him back."

McCoy couldn't bear the dejected note in the quiet words. "Jim, he could be cured.

It might take some time, but don't give up hope." Kirk didn't answer. He couldn't.

* * * *

The hotel room was empty when Kirk returned. There was no note, no clue to Spock's whereabouts. Kirk sat down, trying to remain calm and keep the problem in perspective.

Spock was ill. He could admit that now without flinching. It explained a lot. Not everything, for Spock's insanity had revealed many insights into his own character that he had never been aware of, or willing to admit. He loved Spock, and that wasn't going to change. He had to help him now. But first he had to find him.

Kirk called base security and said he was trying to locate his first officer. He made the request low-key and casual. The report came back immediately, just as casual--they had no idea that there was a problem, and Spock had security clearance for the entire base. Over an hour ago he had entered the main repair terminal, where the impulse engines for the Enterprise were being re-balanced. He had not checked out yet.

Kirk cut the connection, and sat frozen for a long moment, McCoy's words returning to him. "He could be a danger to you, to himself, or even to the ship."

"Oh my god," Kirk said aloud, then raced for the door.

Ten minutes later, he had beamed up into the repair terminal that was hooked onto the rear section of the Enterprise. Spock had left only moments before, beaming directly to the main terminal on the planet. Kirk followed, wondering what the Vulcan's game was, and praying it wouldn't be more than he could handle.

Kirk made his way through the terminal. At this time of night, only a few technicians were still about. It didn't take long to locate Spock. He was exactly where Kirk had expected him to be--in the computer station.

"Come in, Jim." He spoke without turning around. "I've been expecting you. It took you longer to find me than I thought."

Kirk stepped into the room, then froze when he saw the crumpled body of a security guard in the corner.

"Do not be concerned. I did not kill him. I just wanted to be certain I wouldn't be disturbed until I was finished."

"Spock," Kirk said softly, "what's going on? What are you doing here?"

"Completing my work. Most of it was done in the repair terminal, but the final signal must come from here. You think I'm mad, I know. But I'm not suicidal."

"Spock," Kirk said tightly. "stop this. Let's go home."

"Home?" Spock raised his head from the panel and looked at Kirk. "You're talking about the ship, of course. That's your home, Jim. Not mine. But soon that will be taken care of, and you will be as homeless as I. Then we shall just have each other."

Kirk's mouth was dry. He swallowed with difficulty. "You're going to destroy her?" 

"Her? You really do think of the ship as an entity, don't you?" Spock chided. "It's

not alive, Jim. I cannot 'kill' a piece of metal."

"There are people on that piece of metal. Are you going to kill them, too?" Spock shrugged. "It is necessary."

Desperate, Kirk shouted, "You're not Ben Finney, Spock. You can't do it!"

"But I can. Simply by touching this switch. I created a serious imbalance in the main engine, and this will put it past the critical stage. Another 'light show' for you, Jim."

Kirk gasped. "You really did destroy that planetoid, didn't you?"

"Of course," Spock said impatiently. "I told you I did. Actually, that was more difficult than this. I used the phasers to nudge the asteroid into its path--Chekov and Sulu believed that I was testing phaser power."

Kirk tried a different tack. "There is no reason for this, Spock. It's illogical. A waste of time, material, and Ii ves. Why do you want to do it?"

"I apologize. I thought you understood. I will not share you with anyone, Jim. You are mine. I can fight McCoy and Thompson and anyone else who would take you from me and I would win. But the one thing you love more than me, I cannot fight. She would win., I'm not a fool. I could see that from the beginning. The Enterprise is everything to you, and I cannot bear to share you with her. So I must destroy her."

"Please, Spock, no." Kirk's voice was hoarse with emotion. "I can't let you do this."

"If you want to stop me, you can. There is a phaser on that panel to your right." Startled, Kirk jerked around and saw it, the butt peeking out from beneath a pile of repair orders. He grabbed it and swung around. "Step back, Spock. I'll get you back to the ship and everything will be all right."

Spock smiled, almost sadly. "It's not that easy, Jim. I wanted to give you a choice, and now you have one. I removed the stun setting on that phaser. You will have to kill me--or let me kill the Enterprise. That is your choice."

Kirk's stomach lurched.

"What means the most to you, Jim? Can you look me in the eye and kill me? You say you love me." He paused. "But you said you loved Edith Keeler, too."

Kirk flinched. His hands were shaking. "Don't," he pleaded, "please, god, don't make me do it. Spock, step away from the switch!"

"Make your decision," Spock demanded, his hand lifting to the toggle switch. "Choose."

Kirk's finger was frozen on the trigger, his heart racing. His voice was raspy as he shouted, "I love you, Spock, believe me!"

"I do, Jim. But I have to know how much." He started to complete the motion.

Kirk screamed, "No!" and tightened his finger on the trigger.

The edge of a stun blast caught Kirk and tumbled him to the floor, groggy and tingling, but conscious. Someone knelt beside him.

"Sir, are you all right?"

Kirk shook his head to clear it. He could see Spock's body crumpled beside the computer panel. He scooted along the floor until he was beside him, then cradled Spock's head in his arms.

"He came up behind me, sir," the guard explained nervously. "Must have been one of those…uh…nerve pinches. It didn't take long to figure out what was going on when I came to." He flushed a little. "I'm sorry you were grazed with the stun effect."

Kirk still didn't answer. He brushed back the dark bangs absently, and traced the arch of an eyebrow.

"Sir, I'm going to have to report this," he said apologetically. "I have to call a security alert."

"Call them," Kirk said tiredly. "Just leave us alone for a minute."

The young man hurried to the intercom, and Kirk held the Vulcan tighter.

* * * *

Kirk was numb. He couldn't think, couldn't feel. He moved like an automaton, watching as the security men took Spock to the Sickbay, watched as they tied the restraints, watched McCoy pressure a hypo into the Vulcan's arm. Listened to McCoy in the outer office, making arrangements for Spock to be moved to the Base hospital until more permanent plans could be made.

//Permanent ...// his mind caught the word and held it. //What if he is like this always? What if he never gets well?// He clutched Spock's hand convulsively.

"Jim." McCoy's voice was soft. "Come on, he'll sleep for hours now. I don't want him conscious until he's at the Base hospital."

He led Kirk away to his office, worried by the bruised, haunted expression in the hazel eyes. It frightened him, wondering just how far Jim was from the edge.

Kirk sat down where McCoy told him, and stared blankly at the wall.

"Jim, snap out of it. It's over now. Spock will be taken care of. He won't be sent to Elba, if that's what you're worried about. There's a convalescent center on Earth that--"

"Bones," Kirk broke in, his voice hardly above a whisper. "I was going to kill him." The wounded eyes turned to meet the Doctor's. McCoy wanted to reach out to him, but was afraid to. "I understand, Jim. But you know you would have had to do it. You didn't have a choice."

"Oh, I had a choice. He gave me a choice." Kirk covered his face with his hands. "What is it about me, Bones?" There was a smothered laugh, bitter, painful. "I seem to drive people crazy. Finney ...Janice...Spock... I should be the one locked up, not them. Oh my god."

McCoy heard a sob fight its way from Kirk's chest. The weight of all of this was crushing him. He began to shake violently. Another sob came out, then another. He buried his face in his arms and began crying openly, his entire body wracked with the power of it.

McCoy put his arm around the shuddering back and held on to him, trying to offer comfort. He had never seen Kirk break down like this. Not for Edith, not for Miramanee, not even for his brother. All the bottled-up grief and hopelessness flooded out, and McCoy didn't attempt to stem the tide. 

McCoy could think of nothing to say that would help, so he simply held.on and helped him ride it through to the end.

It was a long time before Kirk regained control. He finally raised his head, face still streaked with tears he didn't bother to wipe away. "Where are you sending Spock?"

The calmness of the voice worried McCoy all over again. It was too much of a contrast to the emotional storm. "To Earth. I don't think Sarek will object. It's one of the finest facilities in the Federation. Very peaceful, and he'll receive all the care he needs. Perhaps the serum that helped Garth will help Spock," he added hopefully.

"But you doubt it," Kirk finished the thought.

McCoy looked away and took a breath. "Yes...I doubt it. They haven't had as much success as they had hoped. And Spock's problem is very deeply rooted. It won't be solved in a few days."

"I'm going with him, Bones," Kirk said quietly.

McCoy stared at him. "Jim, it won't do him any good. In fact, it might be better for you to stay away from him altogether."

"Out of sight, out of mind? No, it won't work. If I'm part of the problem, I'll have to be part of the solution."

"What about the ship?" McCoy asked quickly. "You're not going to walk away just like that, are you?"

"Just like that." Kirk held his eyes steadily. "Bones, I was going to kill him. That's the second time in my life I was willing to give up someone I loved to save her. That's as much as she deserves. She's had enough blood from me."

"It's not like that, and you know it. You did what you had to to save people, not the the ship!"

"Did I?" Kirk countered grimly. "How can you be so sure when I'm not?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm going with Spock. I have to."

"You're exhausted, emotionally and physically," McCoy pleaded. "Don't make any decisions now that you'll regret. Get some sleep and think it over first."

"All right, Bones," Kirk conceded wearily. "I'll think it over." McCoy watched him go, and he suddenly felt very old and alone. 

* * * *

Spock waited patiently. He disliked the restraints, but tolerated them as a temporary trial. They would be removed very soon, for he would be a model patient.

//Jim should be feeling exceptionally guilty by now,// he thought with satisfaction. Guilt and responsibility. It began the game and it was ending it. A beautiful, concentric circle. He won and the Enterprise lost. And only they knew it.

He smiled, that predatory, cat-like smile McCoy had glimpsed before.

//In four point six minutes, Jim will be walking through that door...//


End file.
